


Hermit & Hunter

by wusane



Category: Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Caretaking, Dark Past, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Making Out, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Pining, dreamnotfound, why is doing tags so hard?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 44,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26988505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wusane/pseuds/wusane
Summary: The Shadows are a group of masked hunters that protect the the city from the wrath of the elite and spread the wealth they obtained among the less fortunate populace. And Dream was the most notorious of them.One fateful night, when a hunt turned horribly wrong, he was forced to flee from the city into the uncharted Enchanted Forest, where the trees were more forbidding than any wall and the forest floor silent. Pursed by the guards, Dream stumbles upon one of the fabled Hermits, people who shunned the city and lived in the wild. Maybe bleeding out on the floor of the home of a stranger wasn't a good first impression but it certainly made sure they didn't forget you anytime soon.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 440





	1. The Escape

**Author's Note:**

> Hallo, this is my first fanfic featuring dreamnotfound so I apologize in advance if this is extremely bad. The friendship between Dream and George is something great and if either of them are uncomfortable, then I will immediately take this down. Hope you enjoy!

Silently flipping his body over the wall of the mansion, Dream jumped down into the vast lawn. The house was dark and everything seemed quiet. Padding silently through the grass, he drew a sword from his sheath. He withdrew a pick and quickly destroyed the door in place. The carpet floor, muffling his footsteps, expanded into the room until it stopped at a set of grand quartz stairs which he could see lead to the balconies on the second floor.

Moving like the shadow he belonged to, Dream reached the center of the room when suddenly the room was flooded with lights from redstone lamps. Blinded and disoriented, he didn't see the arrow coming until it sank into his arm, knocking him into the floor.

Gasping with pain and surprise, Dream looked up to see a dozen bows pointing at him from the balconies. A man in a dark expensive suit stepped forward, his fingers gripping the banisters, a wide leer stretching his face.

"The notorious Dream," Schlatt said, his face still stretched in that horrible grin. "How very nice to meet you."

\--------

Dream panted as he ran through the field, the grass whipping by his ankles. His wounds throbbed unnaturally and he could feel his veins pulsing with heat and the mysterious poison running through them.

For two hours, he had been running, his feet moving instinctively from the sound of the pursing horses and the cries of the guards riding them. Their torches flashed across the field, illuminating any area where he might be hiding.

Suddenly the ground dropped right in front of him, and unprepared, he tumbled over the edge rolling down the trench into he splashed into the stream at the bottom. Coming to the surface, he gasped for air and flailed for the edge on the other side. Pulling himself off the water, Dream pick himself off the ground and stumbled drunkenly up the trench.

"I see him!!" The sharp cry, closer than Dream thought, gave him a rush of adrenaline, pushing his legs harder. The water had cleared the exhaustion in his head slightly and the poison seem to throb less intently. Without pausing to think, he kept running.

After a few minutes, Dream's taxed brain registered the towering trees he was approaching, signaling that he was entering territory that was uncharted and unknown. After a moment of hesitation and the sound of water splashing behind them, he plunged into the forest and hoped for the best.

The thick trunks of the trees whipped by him as Dream pushed his body to an even faster pace. However, his legs were once again heavy and his vision was starting to tunnel. Just when he though that he was going to drop and leave himself to be found by the guards pursuing him, Dream spotted a light through the trees.

He hated to drag an innocent bystander into his conflict and he moved to bypass the house. But when, he neared the edge of the light, the silent forest was broken by the howling of a wolf.

Before Dream could so much as turn to run, the door banged open and a man ran out of the house.

"Hello?" the man called out tentatively. The man looked around and his eyes fell on Dream, a black figure silhouetted against the trees frozen in place by the sudden appearance. "Are you okay?"

Dream's mouth opened to tell the man to hurry up and go in before they both were caught, he heard the distant sounds of his pursuers again. Without hesitation, then man ran over to him and examined Dream.

"You're hurt," the man said, phrasing it as a statement rather than a question. Dream suddenly felt the world tilt and his body would've hit the ground if the other man didn't catch him. "Come on, we have to get inside."

Dream felt himself being lead into the house. The man dragged him into the room adjacent to the front door and deposited him into the chair by the wall. Through blurred vision, Dream watched the man shoved a chest to the side with a loud scraping sound. He kicked open the trapdoor underneath the chest and walked over to Dream.

"Here." The man held a small bottle of red liquid. He uncorked the bottle and held it up to Dream's mouth. "This will help a little, at least until I can give you proper treatment." Dream obediently swallowed the liquid and felt the poison slow and his vision came into focus. The superficial wounds on his arms and face smoothed over though the deeper wounds still oozed fluids.

The man lead Dream over to the trapdoor and helped him get in. "Sorry, this might be a little cramped. Just bear with it for a while." The man settled Dream into a more comfortable position, leaning him against the wall. He turned to leave but Dream's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," Dream croaked in a dry voice. "Who are you and why are you helping me?" His strength was rapidly fading and he tried to fight the inevitable sleep.

The man smiled and replied, "My name is George and it's the decree of the Forest to help the ones who seek it. That's why you ended up here though your pursers might find this place too."

"I'm sorry." Dream released the other man's wrist. He sincerely felt sorry for suddenly shattering the peace of this stranger and potentially getting this man killed.

"Don't apologize." The man made a movement to stand up. "The Forest will protect those who deserve it."

Dream felt himself falling into the sleep he needed but he had one request to make. "Whatever you do, don't take off my mask," he said in a slurred voice.

He didn't hear the other man's reply but he saw with fading vision the man stand up and shut the trapdoor, leaving him in the welcome darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was the first chapter! Leave a comment below on how well I did. Criticism welcome! I'll probably post longer updates once or twice a week.


	2. The Trickery

Closing the door to the room, George cleaned up the scattered drops of blood, which glared dark, muddy yellow on the floor. After that was done, he quickly made his way outside, grabbing a bottle of gray liquid and some meat. He also took a bottle labeled red dye. Kicking dirt over the few yellow-brown drops outside, he made his way to his front lawn and scattered some of the dye from the bottle on the grass at the edge of the light, leading away from his house. He repeated this farther into the dark, moving about fifty yards away from the house before going back.

He placed some of the meat on the floor, sprinkling some of the gray liquid over the food. His dog rushed for the meat but George held him back.

"No boy, don't eat that." He gave his dog some of the meat that he didn't contaminate. As his dog wolfed down the meat, it suddenly perked up and started howling again. The cause was quickly discovered as loud footsteps trampled the ground until the figures burst into the light.

The two men were accompanied by a huge black hound. As they approached the house, George stood up and adopted a wary expression. The group approached the house and tallest one called in a loud voice in a contemptuous voice.

"Well, if it isn't one of the dirt dwellers." He approached until he was standing a foot away from George, finger gripping the handle of his sword. "Search the area with the dog," he ordered his companion. But before, the other man could take another step away from the clearing, the black hound lunged for the meat that George had left on the ground.

"Woah!" The other man was pulled off his feet, the leash flying out of his hand as the hound consumed the meat on the ground. Within a matter of seconds, the food was gone.

"Hey!" George yelled angrily, fixing his expression to match his tone. "That was for my dog!" As he approached the hound, a sword point poked him roughly in the chest.

"Back off, peasant," the man holding the sword said. "Surely, you're not so poor that you couldn't feed the emperor's dog." George took a step back as the blood on his chest, ran in a thin trickle down his chest. The man laughed. "That's what I thought." He turned to his companion, and yelled. "Get the dog off his fat ass and so something!"

The other man picked himself off the floor with a angry mutter and took the dog's leash again. The pair went into George's house, leaving the door opened. George took a involuntary breath, hoping that his trick had worked. The man standing next to him heard it and turned to him with a leer.

"Have something to say, peasant?," he said in a threatening tone. "Do you want to object to having us go through your house? If you can call this dirt shack a house." He waved a hand at George's home.

"No," George replied, turning away from the man pointedly. A second later, he felt a hand grab his shoulder and smashed him across the face. Refusing to make a sound, he dropped to the ground, spitting up the blood that welled up in his mouth. His dog started going off and ran over to his side. George placed a gentle hand on his dog's back, calming it.

"That's 'no, sir', low-life," the man growled. "I'm sure you know what's going to happen if you make that mistake again."

"Yes, sir," George said, real anger welling up inside of him. With an effort he forced it down. The man gave a sick leer.

"That's what I like to hear," he said in a sick voice. "You know, you're not bad-looking for a degenerate. How about I show you what a real city man can do."

Before George could say anything or throw up, the other man exited the house. "There's nothing inside. We need to catch up before we really lose him."

"Don't interrupt me," the man standing over George snapped, glaring. "Go catch him yourself if you care so much."

The other man had reached the fence gate and turned around to return the glare. "We've already wasted enough time here. Who knows how far he's going to escape. If we fail this, the emperor can and will make us suffer long after we have died."

With a snort, the taller man mumbled something about the king fucking waiting, though George noticed that he immediately followed his companion. With a last final sneer at George, both of them vanished into the dark, though the taller man turned back and said threateningly, "We'll be back, peasant. And for you own sake, you better hope you're not hiding anything."

George sat on the ground, glaring at the spot where both men vanished. After he was sure that they weren't coming back, he picked himself up off the ground and wiped the blood from his mouth. "Don't worry boy," he murmured, ruffling his dog's fur. "They won't be back. The Forest will protect us."

George gently touched the side of his face that got smacked and winced. He was definitely going to have a humongous bruise tomorrow morning. At least his teeth was still intact. He quickly went back into his house and ignored the mess that the hound had made of his kitchen. He quickly shoved the chest to the side and opened the trapdoor that opened into the cellar where he left the mysterious stranger. He climbed down and almost immediately choked on the air. It smelled like decaying flesh and the bitter smell of ash and poison. The tight cellar, caused the smell to build up inside it and it unleashed its acidic aroma into the rest of the house.

Taking a deep breath, George plunged into the cellar and found the man he left there. With a grunt, he lifted the man up and after a few minutes of exertion got him into the main floor of his house. Gasping, he carried the man over to the bed in the room and deposited him there.

Immediately, George opened all the windows in the house and the doors as well to let out the putrid air and replace it with clean air. Once outside, he started whispering.

"Hey, Forest. Can you do me this favor and make sure no one comes near here for a while? Especially those guys from before. Actually, can you make sure they never come here again? Thanks. I owe you big." It wasn't his usual prayer but it would have to do for now. The wind seem to give a encouraging whine though.

Finished, George headed back into the house and into his room. The man lying on top of the bed was taller than he was, so his feet were almost dangling off the end of the bed. Taking a deep breath and before, he lost his nerve, he began undressing the man on his bed. Unfortunately, he had to cut the yellow hoodie(which George figured to be either green or something close to it) the man was wearing and he made a note to make a new one as soon as possible. The stranger's lower body seemed to be fine aside from a slight cut in the left thigh so he left the pants on. He thanked God for that because that would've been WHOLE other level of awkward.

As soon as George got the jacket and shirt off, he immediately zeroed in one the wound on the right arm. The flesh on the right arm was a alarming gray, and the center of the wound, which looked like it came from a arrow, was showing exposed bone. As he watched the gray seemed to be spreading further.

Without hesitation, George flew over to his chest and grabbed the healing potion he had used before and for extra measure, the regenerative one as well. Slowly, he uncorked both the bottles and placed several drops of each on the exposed gray wound. The wound sizzled slightly but the advancement of the poison or whatever it was seem to be slowing.

Instead of waiting to see any improvement, George examined the man's other wounds, such as the deep long cut on his chest and several more arrow wounds on his stomach and other arm. Cleaning the wounds with a bucket of water, he slipped more potion on those wounds and the shallow cut on the left thigh, making sure the skin stopped leaking fluids. After wrapping the wounds with white paper bandages, he reexamined the decaying wound.

His stomach dropped as he saw that the potion had only worked for a short amount of time. The decaying grayness had advanced almost to the man's elbow and up to his clavicle. Even more alarming were the visible veins that were standing starkly white against the gray skin. George quickly poured more drops of potion on the wound and watched as the liquid sank into the exposed flesh.

Over the course of the night, George doctored the wound, applying the potion whenever the gray started to advance throughout the body. When the first rays of dawn shot through the window in the room, the last few drops were used. Hoping against hope, George watched the wound and prayed it was enough.

However, as was the norm throughout the night, the grayness started spreading again. George closed his eyes briefly and debated whether to use his last card. He opened his eyes again and stared at the face of the man on his bed. Most of his features were hidden by the strange mask that George had left on, as per the man's request, but the mouth was visible and it was currently curled in pain. His skin was beaded with sweat and the gray tinge had worked it's way up to his neck, despite George's best effort. Even the blonde hair of the man seemed to become whiten with pain.

Getting up suddenly, George marched over to the chest in the corner and once again lifted the trapdoor underneath it. Hidden in the dark corner of the cellar was another chest. Lifting the lid, he rooted around inside until he pulled out what he was looking for. The small cellar was immediately filled with light as he held the glowing golden apple in his hand, illuminating the stone floor and wooden walls. After a moment hesitation, George lifted the apple out of the chest and closed the lid and climbed back out of the cellar.

Without taking the time to rearrange the cellar, George quickly walked over to the side of the stranger and quietly shook his shoulder, noting with alarm the coldness of the skin. "Hey, man. I'm going to need you to wake up so I can save your life."

After a few seconds, he saw the man's eyes open through the peepholes in the mask. The eyes seem to be, George was guessing yhough it was hard to tell in the dim lighting, green though the haze of pain and poison dulled the color. "Wh-What?," the man wheezed in a dry raspy voice.

"I need you to eat this." George held up the glowing apple. The other man's eyes widen behind the mask.

"Is that an enchanted apple?" The man's eye widen even further when George nodded. "Do you know how much that's worth?"

"Not everything is for profit, you know," George said crossly, his arm starting to ache from holding out the apple. "Just eat it so you won't die."

The other man's hand tried to reach up and take the apple but the effort seemed to be too much for his injured arm and he dropped it with a gasp of pain. Before, the other man could try again, George lifted the apple to the other man's mouth. "Here."

After a moment hesitation, the man took a bite. Immediately, George could see the color returning into the cheeks of the man, the skin returning to what seem to its natural tan. The discoloration in the arm also visibly receded, leaving behind unblemished skin.

George let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. Everything he had tried before was ineffective and he was scared that not even the godly apple could save this man's life. But as the man ate more and more of the apple, the bruised arm slowly but surely disappeared until it was gone entirely. The veins that were standing out starkly against the skin receded until the arm looked normal. Even the arrow wound healed over entirely, not even leaving a scar behind to show it ever existed.

"Holy shit." The man examined his arm in amazement. His body was back to a natural healthy tan and even his hair returned to a normal-looking dirty blonde.

"Ok, I'm going to need to see the rest of your wounds," George said. The man obediently lowered his arm, allowing George to unwrap the bandages on the rest of his body, noting with relief the warmth coming from the man's skin. The slashes and punctures on the man's skin had also closed over, looking brand-new. The same was for the arrow wound on the thigh. "Looks like everything is fine now. You should still probably rest after that entire night of pain." He moved to stand up, bringing the enchanted apple core with him.

"Wait." The man hesitated and then continued. "Thanks for saving me."

George gave a small smile. "Don't worry about it. Come to think of it, I've spent the entire night nursing you and I don't even know your name. What're you called, stranger and where did you come from?"

The man turned to look at him and met George's eyes with his newly vibrant ones. "My name's Dream, a Hunter from the city."

Laughing slightly at the unusual name, George extended a hand. "I'm George, the Hermit of this Forest."

Dream took his hand and gripped it, almost covering it entirely. "I know. I remembered," he replied in a low voice. And for some unknown reason, George's heart sped up just a bit, with the knowledge that this mysterious man would take the effort to remember his name while he was almost comatose with pain.

"It's nice to meet you," George replied, quickly released the hand, ignoring the rapid beat of his pulse. "Now, I think you should really go to sleep. You looked tired as hell." Dream's eyes had started to droop and his spine was becoming more curved as his posture slumped.

"Ok." Dream laid back down against the bed, rolled over and almost immediately fell asleep, his mask a little askew. Impulsively, George reached out and adjusted it until it was back on place. He pulled the cover over Dream's body and satisfied with his nursing, left the room and closed the room leaving Dream to rest in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Two chapters down, who knows how many left to go. The next update will be on Monday, unless school decides to make me take more classes. As always, leave a comment below on how well I did and thanks for reading!


	3. The Recovery

George took the leftover apple core outside and walked quite a distance away from his home to the base of a small oak tree. The tree was appeared rather sickly, its trunk thin and withered and the leaves, the few there were, were a muddy brown. He dug out the one of the seeds from the core of the fruit and buried it at the base of the tree.

"There," he whispered to the tree, placing a hand to the bark of the tree. "Hopefully that'll help you get better." His task done, George headed back home. He rooted through his chest until he found a empty glass bottle and placed the couple of seeds left into the jar. He placed the jar on his windowsill and left it there. That done, he tossed the rest of the core into the composter by the cauldron.

George quietly padded into the room where he left Dream and sat down quietly in the chair he left only a half an hour ago. Gently, not wanting to disturb the other man's sleep, he tested the skin on Dream's shoulder to discern the temperature of the skin. A rare side affect of eating the enchanted apple was for the body to burn up from the rapid regeneration and healing. The last thing that George wanted was for all his effort to go to waste and have Dream turn into a human torch. Keeping a bottle of fire invulnerability potion at the foot of his chair was something he had done in advance to prevent that.

To his relief, the skin felt normal besides a noticeable but not alarming increase in temperature. Satisfied, George leaned back and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had stayed up the entire night, treating Dream and now that the crisis was averted, he could feel his fatigue catching up to him. But he couldn't go to sleep yet unless he wanted to wake up to a potentially burning Dream.

So instead of closing his eyes, George took the time to examine the man he had tried desperately to save. It wasn't everyday that he had people just stumble across his isolated home in the Forest and truth be told, there was something that attracted him to this man who had shown up in the dead of the night, bleeding out and pursed by questionable company. Dream's face was still obscured by the mask, and even though the bottom half of the mask seemed to be cracked with hairline fractures in the surface, pretty much all of the man's feature was hidden. Only his mouth and nose was exposed, the mouth currently slightly opened, quietly exhaling. The mask was extremely simple, just a white surface with two holes for the eyes. Upon closer observation, George could see an almost invisible smattering of freckles that disappeared under the mask. Short dirty blonde hair flopped slightly over the top of the mask, the strands silky in appearance. The sharp jawline was stubbed with faint stubble and George longed to reach out and trace the shape of the jawline. He leaned forward, a finger extending outward...

With a jolt, George realized what he was doing and quickly pulled his hand back, his face burning with heat and embarrassment. Sighing loudly, he rubbed his eyes roughly and slapped his cheeks in a effort to fight off the sluggishness of his brain. Unable to resist, he laid his head down on the edge of the bed resting in his crossed arms, relishing the soft surface, though he knew that he would inevitably fall asleep. _Well_ , he thought, his brain feeling like molasses, _if Dream does ended up turning into a torch, I'll have a warning before the fire totally toasted him_. Without another thought, George fell into the waiting darkness.

\--------

Dream slowly came back into consciousness, feeling almost uncomfortably warm. He could feel blankets covering his body and was about to throw it off until he heard a soft grunt at his foot. Slowly, he looked around and his eyes fell on the slumped body and George's face at the foot of the bed he was on. George exhaled another soft murmur but Dream had already zeroed in one the large bruise discoloring George's left cheek. Without thinking, he reached out a finer and touched the bruise, feeling the tenderness of the skin.

The other man's brow furrowed in pain and his face turned away slightly from the touch. Dream quickly pulled his finger back and George relaxed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Dream took a look around his surrounding, as his instinct as a thief kicked in. The room he was in was large with several chests on the other side of the room. A door was on the opposite wall leading, he assumed to the rest of the house. There was also a window right next to him that was open, allowing clean fresh air into the room. He could feel the air cooling his body and face. The lower half of his face seemed unnaturally cooler than the rest of his face.

Realizing what that meant, Dream made a sudden violent movement to his face, rocking the bed and causing George to sit up with a yelp. Breathing rapidly, Dream felt his face and felt the missing bottom half of his mask, though the upper portion of his face was still hidden. Dream's breath evened out and felt his racing heart slowed as he was secure in the knowledge that his face was still unknown to the world.

"Um, are you okay?" The familiar voice made Dream jump as he realized that his panic attack hadn't gone unnoticed. George's face looked concerned and he had one hand reaching for something one the floor, a weapon probably, Dream thought. To his surprise, George pull his and back up and placed a cool hand to his exposed arm. "Do you feel like you're burning up?"

"No," Dream replied, his gravelly voice sounding rustier than it usually was. The cool presence on his bicep was really distracting him and he both wanted and didn't want George to lift his hand. "I just feel really warm."

"That's pretty normal, considering that your body had underwent a extreme recovery." George withdrew his hand, leaving Dream's arm tingling and he shook his arm out slightly. "Be glad that your body didn't spontaneously combust when you were sleeping. And as per your request, I didn't take off your mask."

"Thanks." Dream looked around for his clothes, realizing that he was having a conversation with this man basically half nude. "Where are my clothes?"

The brunette's face suddenly flushed and his eyes flicked down to Dream's chest. "Oh, I had to cut them off of you to treat your wounds." He got up and walked to the door. "Hold on. I'll get you some clothes. Your bag is under the bed." The door opened and closed with a sharp snap.

Dream got out of the bed and stretched his back and arms, the joints popping loudly, groaning. The hours spent recovering had cause his body and muscles to stiffen. After a few minutes of stretching his body, he reached under the bed and pulled out his bag and the weapons on the sheathe he had woven into the back of the bag. Rooting through the bag, he pulled out a bottle of water and swigged it, grimacing at the taste of day-old water. 

"You know, if you wanted water, you could have just ask for it instead of drinking nasty bottled water." The amused voice from the doorway almost caused Dream to choke on the liquid in his mouth. It wasn't often someone was able to sneak up on him like that but this person had the tread of a predator. George was holding a bundle of clothes, that seemed to fit with its owner′s theme of light blue, red, white and blue jeans.

Wiping the water from his mouth, Dream tried to stammer out a explanation. "I-I didn't want to impose on you. Especially after you just saved my life. Which means I need to get out of here as soon as possible otherwise, you're going to end up dead." He tried to take the clothes from George's hands but the brunette held on tightly with a steely look. 

"Are you kidding me?" George demanded, looking into Dream's eyes. In the back of his mind, Dream though that the other man's eyes might have the most expressive eyes of anyone he has ever met, their chocolaty surface showing all the emotion he was feeling. Currently, they were blazing in anger. "I didn't save your life just so you can go out there and throw it away again." The shorter man pointed outside the house. "Out there, there has to be at least fifty men trying to find you for whatever reason. I only saw two of them last night but I could hear a lot more moving through the Forest. And judging by how desperate they were, they won't be leaving the Forest anytime soon. Do you really think you can escape without meeting a single hunter?" 

"I can handle a single guard," Dream protested, reaching again for the clothes. George yanked them out of his reach.

"You might be able to take care of one guard but if they yell for help, you're going to get yourself surrounded and killed. I'm fairly sure that you can't take on fifty soldiers by yourself," George replied. 

"But that's why I have to leave now!" Dream said, taking a step forward. The shorter man stood his ground, looking directly at him. "If I stay here, they'll come back here. At least if I leave, I can get them to chase me and leave this place alone! That's the only way I can repay you!"

George snorted and replied,"You don't have to worry about that. Those soldiers can stumble through this Forest as long as they want but they'll never reach this place again. This clearing is protected by the Forest and the only reason the other two soldiers were able to get in was because they slipped through the hole that the Forest opened up for you." He shoved the clothes he was holding into Dream's arms. "If you want to repay me, then stop trying to be noble and getting yourself killed." George turned around and stormed out the door, slamming the door behind him.

Dream stood there, gaping at the closed door. _Forget those expressive eyes_ , Dream thought, as he pulled on the clothes. He had never met someone who was so stubborn before. After finally getting dressed, he bundled up his blood stained, torn pants and stuffed it back into his bag, reminding himself later to wash it and get it repaired. 

Quietly, Dream opened the door leading into the other room and walked into what looked like the kitchen of the house. His steps creaked loudly on the wooden floorboards. He spotted George bent over a range of furnaces, fiddling with something in it. Dream allowed himself a moment to look the man over. George's black hair flopped in bangs slightly over his forehead and his shirt and jeans seem to have been molded snugly on his body. His face, itself had features that seemed like it belonged to a fairy, not strange but instead it enhanced his features and his clear skin. There was also a pair if goggles strapped on his head, though the lenses seemed to be broken. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he walked over to George. 

"Hey." He was stood a few paces behind the brunette, he continued, "I'm sorry." He fumbled for more words, trying to make his apology sound sincere. "I didn't mean to sound like I was disregarding you saving my life."

George stood up and dusted white flour from his hands. There was also a streak of flour on his cheek on the opposite side of the bruise. "It's fine," he replied. "I understand that you want to go back as soon as possible but just try to think about this rationally. The Forest might not be able to protect you a second time."

"You're putting a lot of faith in this...Forest." Maybe he was being dense, but Dream couldn't comprehend this man's trust and faith in what he only saw as a group of trees. Trees were only trees, no matter how impressively tall they grew.

Instead of getting offended or going on some kind of sentimental preach, George only smiled. "I don't blame you. Come on, I'll show you." He moved to the cauldron, rinsing his hand. 

"What happened to your face?" The question had been straining to burst out of Dream's mouth ever since he woke up and saw the purple-yellow injury. The bruise was too severe to be an accident. 

"Oh." George touched his face self-consciously. Dream silently cursed himself, wishing he had phrased the question better. He tried to fumble an apology out but George was already continuing. "One of the soldiers from last night smacked me when he got pissed." He laughed quietly. "I totally forgot about this."

A white-shot blade of anger shot through Dream, stepping forward and gripping both of George's arms tightly, surprising both of them. Usually, he could control his emotions much better than this, erasing all but the most extreme feelings from his face. But something about this shorter, dark-haired man stripped his walls bare and left his emotions exposed for all to see. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he demanded, tightening his grip. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?! Did they..." Dream couldn't bring himself to speak the rest of his sentence but the unspoken words hung in the air between the two man.

George face contorted into a wince of pain and Dream saw how tightly he was gripping the other man's arms. He quickly let go and stammered out a apology. George only gave a small smile. "It's fine. Thanks for your concern but they didn't do anything else to me." The shorter man's eyes flashed. "If they did, they wouldn't be walking in this Forest right now." 

"Do you have any healing potion? Those should be able to take care of the bruise instantly," Dream asked, pleased and surprised that this man wasn't some weak pushover who forgave everyone for everything.

"I used the last of it treating you last night," George replied, gesturing at the empty bottles on the counter. Guilt flashed through Dream, but George quickly saw the look on his face and added, "It's fine, your wounds were a lot more serious than mine."

"Hold on, I'll get you something." Dream quickly darted back into the room where he left his bag. He rooted through the contents of the leather bag and found the small bottle of red liquid he kept for emergencies. He took the bottle back into the kitchen. 

"Here, use this." He pressed the bottle into George's hand. "That should take care of the bruise."

"What is this?" George asked, a concerned look on his face. "You think I'm just going to drink whatever you hand me?"

"What?" Dream was confused. The unique red color of the potion was something that couldn't possibly be mistaken for anything else. "This is a healing potion." 

"Oh!" George said, face lighting in realization. "I'm colorblind so I feel wary of drinking anything that isn't labeled." 

"That makes sense," Dream replied. "But I promised this is really a healing potion and I'm not trying to poison you. Drink it."

"But healing potions are really valuable I can't-." 

“Just drink it.”

When George opened his mouth to protest further, Dream quickly brushed it aside and glared. "Don't argue. This is the less I can do after you saved me." 

After a moment of hesitation and second look from him, George uncorked the bottle. "You know, if I knew you were so opposed to my face looking this ugly, I would've drank some of the potion last night," the shorter man teased in a playful tone, draining the vial in one gulp. The bruise started fading and Dream knew within the hour, it would be entirely gone. 

"Your face is beautiful," Dream blurted out before he could stop himself. He instantly flushed and George cracked a smile.

"Thank you," George said, setting the empty bottle on the counter and took Dream's hand. Dream's already warm hand felt as if the blood pumping through it had suddenly turned to fire, the warmth uncomfortable but he didn't want to let go. George lead him him through another door, still holding his hand, to the outside woods. "Now, I'm going to show you the spirit of the Forest." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, leave a comment on how bad or good this chapter was and also if I made any mistakes or missed any details. Next update will be Friday. I'll be posting regular updates(hopefully) every week on Wednesday and Friday. Thanks for reading!


	4. The Forest

George lead Dream deeper into the Forest and soon, they lost sight of the familiar house and were surrounded by the towering dark trees. 

As they continued walking, George released the taller man's hand to brush aside some of the thorny bushes that caught at his legs, missing the almost disappointed look that Dream gave him. "Jesus, these are annoying."

"What are these?" Dream asked, kneeling down to inspect the rather large clumps of berries on the bush. "I've never seen anything like this in the city."

"Those are sweet berry bushes," George replied, kneeling as well. "The berries are pretty good to eat but those thorns can be hard to get out of if they pierce your skin." He carefully reached a hand into the bush and dislodged some of the fruit on the branches. "Here, open your mouth." He held a berry between his forefinger and thumb in front of Dream's face. 

Even without being able to see the man's face, George could tell that Dream was giving him a strange look. George blushed, realizing what he was doing but before, he could withdraw his hand, Dream leaned forward carefully and, without touching George's fingers, ate the berry. 

George could feel his face burn even more intensely and he quickly lowered his hand, rubbing his hand against his jeans, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling in his fingers. The movement didn't bypass Dream's gaze and the man said, "Are you okay? I didn't get my spit on your hand, did I?"

"It's fine," George replied, his fingers feeling normal again. "I think I got it all off," he lied. "Thank god, because who knows what city disease I'm going to get from your saliva." His weak attempt at a joke was obviously to get Dream's attention away from his weird reaction, though, nevertheless it made the masked man give a small laugh that sounded more like he was dying from oxygen deprivation.

"Hey, if I was carrying any diseases, which I never was, that apple would've wiped it out," Dream replied, his face still in a smile. "So you can stop being so sensitive." 

"Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances especially where you're concerned," George shot back, eagerly engaging in this easy banter and returning the smile. "You city people and your shenanigans." 

"Shenanigans?!" The other man's shoulders were shaking as his wheezing redoubled. "What does that even mean?"

"You tell me." George stood up as Dream's laughter continued, the wheezing sound getting higher in pitch, making George concerned. "Are you dying? You sound like your lungs are going to explode."

Dream also stood up, his laughter subsiding. "I'm okay. I hated to die right after you saved me." He looked at the rest of his berries in the bushes. "Those were sweet as hell. I think I can feel my teeth rotting right now."

"Oh, please," George scoffed, popping a few berries in his mouth. "I've been eating these for years and I'm fine." A distant sound made him turn his head. He paused and tilted his head. "Do you hear that?"

Before Dream could reply, the sound became a lot closer. Before, either of them could draw their weapons, a shadow lunged out of the foliage and tackled George, sending him sprawling. 

"Whoa, boy!" George's dog ran over and around his body, barking like crazy in his ear. "Slow down! Ok, I'm sorry for leaving you behind!" 

Eventually, his dog calmed down enough for him to place a hand on his back and stroked the soft fur there. His dog at least stopped barking in his ear and instead fixed with a reproachful look. "Sorry, boy. You got lonely, didn't you?" he murmured. His dog only responded with a whine. 

George looked over at Dream and saw him with a fist covering his mouth, clearly trying not to laugh. George raised an eyebrow at him. "Got something to say?"

"No, I'm fine," Dream said, laughter in his voice. "By all means, keep on going."

George rolled his eyes and got to his feet, and continued walking, his dog following loyally. He could hear Dream's high wheeze behind him. _Dear lord, what is wrong with this guy_ , he though to himself, smiling. But somehow, even though it sounded weird, the laugh seemed to fit Dream as a person. 

"Hey, wait up!" George turned around, waiting until the other man caught up to him. "Your dog's pretty big," Dream said the second he caught up. "What did you feed him, raw beef?" He bent down until he was eye-level with George's dog and scratched him under the chin. The dog instantly leaned into the touch, giving a small whimper. 

Dream laughed. "What's his name?" he asked George, still looking at the dog. 

"I actually never gave him a name," George replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "He just showed up a couple years ago, injured and bleeding so I healed him. He stuck around after that and I still can't give him a name that fits." He kneel down at his dog's side and absently ran his fingers through the white-gray strands. 

"Clay," Dream said. George looked up in confusion. Dream was looking at his dog determinedly. "Call him Clay." 

"Uh, okay. Can I ask why?" George asked, with a raised eyebrow. 

"I mean, he looks like a 'Clay' doesn't he?" Dream answered, gesturing at the dog. "His fur's like a off-white color like clay and, you know," he finished lamely. 

George snorted. "Okay, Dream." But he had to agree that his dog really does seem like a 'Clay'. It was just a feeling that he couldn't identify but the name seemed to stick.

"Here, Clay," Dream whistled holding out his hands and to George's surprise, his dog's head immediately swiveled over and placed his head into Dream's palms. "Looks like it's been decided," Dream said, smiling.

"Looks like it." George stood up, brushing his pants off and gave Dream a smile. "First day here and you've already hijacked my dog and gave him a name."

"Sorry," Dream replied, smiling as well. "Can we please go and see the 'spirit of the Forest' now?"

"Fine, let's go," George said, spinning around to continue through the Forest. 

For the next fifteen minutes, the trio walked with George in the lead, making a path from his memory and instincts. A comfortable silence had fallen around them, broken only by Clay barking or George warning Dream of sticky bushes. In the calm, George allowed himself to think about Dream.

The blonde man intrigued George. There was no other way to put it. Everything from his blonde hair to his wheezy laugh to his actions seemed perfectly tailored to Dream as a person, and the mystery surrounding him was no exception. His vitality and the sheer ' _aliveness'_ seemed to shine from every pore and good god, it was beautiful, George admitted to himself. George was curious about not only what was hidden under the mask but what lead this man to flee into the Forest, bleeding and pursued. However, he would wait until Dream felt comfortable telling him. He wouldn't pressure the man into spilling his secrets. 

Finally, they arrived in the clearing of the spirit of the Forest. Right away, Dream said:

"There's nothing here." He looked around the flat clearing. "Is this where the supposed 'spirit' is supposed to be?"

George gave a small laugh. "Calm down." He lead Dream over to a log on the ground and sat down. "Sit down." He patted the spot next to him. 

Dream hesitated for a second but sat down as well, leaving a small distance between both of them. "Okay, I sat down."

"Now, relax your body and loosen your mind, don't tense up." George allowed the tension to flow out of his body and closed his eyes. "Close your eyes and think of falling endlessly into the darkness." Without waiting for a reply, George performed the same exercise that allowed him to become one with the Forest.

\--------

Dream watched George's eyes close and his body visibly relax. To be honest, this entire thing sounded like bullshit to him and this whole "spirit" thing sounded cheesy as well. Instead of closing his eyes, he allowed himself to stare at the shorter man. George's face was visibly relaxed and a peaceful expression graced his features. Brown bangs hung on his forehead, curling over the nape of his neck. The slightly tanned skin was clear and now that the bruise was gone, Dream could see the ethereal beauty of his face. Peace and kindness seemed to flow from this person, a presence that made everything around George seem more vibrant and colorful. Dream felt stripped and vulnerable in the face of such a person, his thoughts exposed and his own tainted past coming to the surface.

Without warning, George lashed out a hand and smacked Dream's arm without even opening eyes. "Stop staring at me. It's creepy."

Chuckling, he closed his eyes as well, trying to remember what George told him. He relaxed his shoulders and imagined falling endlessly into a endless darkness.

For a minute, nothing happened and Dream was starting to feel uncomfortable, leaving himself exposed in potentially hostile territory. He was about to quit and open his eyes until he felt himself land heavily, the impact jolting his legs. 

"That was unusually fast." At the sound of George's voice, Dream stood up and looked around wildly. He was surrounded by semi-darkness though it didn't feel oppressive. Light was emitting from a huge spruce tree, towering over him. "Normally, it would take people as least fifteen minutes of concentration before getting here," George continued, and Dream saw him standing casually next to the tree.

"Where are we?" was the first question that Dream had. This was extremely disconcerting and even living in a world where most things were still a mystery, to end up somehow in a place just by meditating was strange even by his standards. "Are we really here?"

"One question at a time," George replied, walking over, his boots silent on the seemingly non-existent floor. "To answer those first two questions, this is the place between worlds, or the Void, as I call it and no we're not really here. Our physical bodies is still sitting on those logs in the Forest." Dream gave him a skeptical look and George smiled. "Don't believe me? I'll show you."

He walked over to the trunk of the tree, and placed a hand on the rough bark. "Touch the tree." Dream slowly placed his palm against it as well, the wood, scratchy against his hand. 

Instantly, he was no longer seeing the tree and the darkness but seeing the clearing that he had just exited mentally. From a bird eye's view, he could see himself and George sitting on the log, both seemingly frozen and meditating.

With a gasp, Dream pulled his hand back, stumbling backward. George also seemed to exit the mental image and turned to him. "Do you believe me now?"

"What was that?" Dream managed to get out. The whole experience was just too weird to keep up with, especially after his brush with death the previous day.

"That was the us merging with the Forest and seeing it what it see, borrowing its eyes, so to speak," George replied calmly. "Doing so allows me to see everything in this Forest."

"Who are you?" The question came out in a rather accusatory tone. Dream couldn't help it. In a matter of minutes, Dream found out that George was a lot more than he bargained for. He seemed much less like a person and something more alien. 

George turned to him, staring right into Dream's eyes, his brown gaze clear and intense. "I am the Hermit of this Forest," he said, repeating what he had first told Dream. "It's custodian and caretaker. I'll do what I must to protect this Forest and the spirit in it." 

"The spirit?" Dream managed to say. George had came across as a rather mild person but this feeling of awe and sheer dominance made Dream shiver in apprehension, but also with a feeling akin to longing. That thought was more than enough to bring a small blush to his face. 

George's mouth twitched upward and, just like that, the feeling was gone. "Are you telling me that you haven't felt it?" Dream shook his head and George walked over and placed a hand on Dream's shoulder. "Just concentrate around you."

For understandable reasons, Dream was finding it rather hard to concentrate right now but he did his best and focused his mind on the surrounding area.

In his mind, he could feel something a presence, something not human. Even without seeing or hearing anything, he could feel the amusement of the spirit and it's kindness at the appearance of a stranger. He traced the presence until his gaze rested on the glowing tree. "This is the spirit?"

"In the Void, nothing made of physical matter can come here and if they did, they won't be getting out intact. So, we're only here in spirit and that's why we can do something like merge with the Forest," George explained, lowering his hand from Dream's shoulder. "This is the spiritual manifestation of the spirit of the Forest." As Dream opened his mouth, the shorter man quickly raised a hand. "I know you probably have a ton of questions but they'll have to wait. We can't stay in this place very long and there's something I need to do before we leave."

The brunette walked back to the trunk of the tree and moved to place a hand upon the trunk.

"Can I help?" After getting over the strangeness of the whole experience, Dream realized that he _did_ indeed want to help this man. It had to be a heavy burden to be entrusted with so much lives and Dream found himself wanting to relieve that burden even if only by a little bit.

George turned to him, his gaze quizzical. "Are you sure? The experience of merging can be hard on people who aren't used to it."

"I'm fine," Dream replied, moving to stand next to George, his hand raised to touch the trunk. "If I'm living here, I might as well get used to things here."

He glanced at George and found the man giving him a small, but no less brilliant smile that left his heart thumping uncomfortably in his chest. "Okay, then. After you."

With a deep breath, Dream touched his fingers to the base of the trunk and felt the sensation of merging with the Forest. He could once again see the two people on the log and Clay patrolling loyally around the bodies. 

A split second later, another presence joined him and though Dream couldn't see him, he knew that George had joined him. 

_Follow me_ , George's voice said into his mind. Dream followed George's presence, distance seeming to bend and warp as they moved through the Forest. Finally, they stopped and Dream saw that they were at the edge of the Forest, where he had entered. A group of at least twenty soldiers were gathered there some riding horses and some with hounds. The soldiers's mouths moving and presumably speaking though Dream couldn't hear a thing.

 _Okay, so there's twenty soldiers here,_ George said. _Let's check inside the Forest._ Once again, they flashed across the Forest, coming across groups of soldiers and hounds, though none of them seemed to be even remotely near the house or the clearing. After locating all of them, George said, _Okay let's go back._

Forcing himself back, Dream felt his body being pulled back into the semi-darkness. He withdrew his hand and stumbled backwards. Beside him, George also withdrew his hand, though he didn't stumble back. 

"So we know there's at least forty to fifty soldiers in here right now," George said, turning to Dream. "Do you still want to take your chances now?" 

Dream couldn't help but agree with the other man now. Hearing and seeing the numbers he would be facing were both totally different things and he had to admit now that there was no way to escape this Forest without detection. "I think I'll stay here for now." Strangely enough, the idea didn't bothered him as much as it had before. He promised himself that he would return eventually but until then, he would help as much as he could. 

With a smile and a nod, George turned back to the tree. "Can we count on your help and protection, spirit?" Dream could feel the spirit agree in a playful, grudging manner. "Thanks." George then took Dream's hand and clutched it tightly. "See you next time." 

Together, both of them rose through the air, gathering speed until they broke through the Void and were back in their own bodies. 

Clay, seeing the reanimation of his owner, immediately bounded over and rested his chin on George's leg. George laughed and rubbed the top of Clay's head. 

Dream, on the hand, immediately jumped off the log and ran over to the bushes where he promptly dry-heaved into it. His head was pounding and nausea was causing the world to tilt. A second later, he could feel a hand on his back, gently patting it until Dream calmed down.

"Sorry," George apologized, when Dream stopped heaving. "The first time is especially rough and merging twice probably didn't help either." 

"I'm fine." Dream shakily stood up. "No really," he said, when he saw George's worried face. "If I want to help you, I'll have to get use to this." 

"Help me?" George replied, with a confused expression. "Why? This isn't your responsibility. You're not obligated to do anything."

"I want to help." Almost against his will, Dream took one of George's hand. "I want to do this. I want to protect this Forest with you, even if only by a little bit. I won't let you bear this burden alone as long as I'm here."

George flushed, his face turning a brilliant red. Dream could feel the part of his face exposed reddening as well. Maybe the words were as eloquent as he would've liked them to be but the emotions were there. And this amount of emotional output wasn't something he was used to. "O-Oh, thanks," George stammered out. "I appreciate it." 

Dream tried to fumble a proper response but all that came out was a: "Okay."

Together, without another word, both of them and Clay started the trek home and this time, they didn't let go of each other's hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wordy chapter but I felt that I needed to explain the context of the Forest and George. As always, leave a comment on criticism, etc.


	5. The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter but here it is!

The first rays of dawn filtered through the window in the room, illuminating the still figure curled up underneath the blanket. Slowly, the glow traveled through the room until it reached the bed. 

As if an alarm sounded, the person on the bed stirred under the cover and sat up, mouth open in a wide yawn. 

His vision still blurred, George made his way to the door sluggishly. He fumbled for the doorknob for a few seconds, finally getting it open. 

He went to the cauldron and splashed his face with the water in it, the cold water clearing the fog in his brain. That done, he started preparing a breakfast of eggs and bread. 

Halfway through the cooking, the door to his spare room opened creakily, depositing a tall masked sleepy blonde into the kitchen.

"Morning," George said, pushing the wheat into the furnace. The other man mumbled a response and staggered outside, George was assuming, to the nearby river to wash up. 

It had been three days since they had made the trip to the clearing. Together they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, learning to coexist in the same space and getting to know each other. George told Dream about his life in the Forest and in return, Dream describe life in the city. But however much they shared, George had the sense that his knowledge about this man was incomplete. There was a air of mystery and secrecy around Dream that George hadn't fully penetrated, in part due to the fact that Dream never took off his mask no matter what they were doing. As a result, however friendly they were, a tiny part of George didn't trust Dream. 

As he had promised, though, Dream had faithfully stuck by George, helping him tend to the Forest and making sure nothing our of ordinary was happening, hovering behind him with his mask-covered face. It was a rather nice change of pace having someone beside him, helping him. 

The scent of baking bread filled the air and satisfied with the rising flour, George went back into his room and quickly changed into a blue shirt and his regular jeans. He strapped the goggles with broken lenses on to his head, a practice that had been ingrained into him over the years. 

As a afterthought, he also donned a thin blue hoodie. The days were steadily getting colder and the mornings was especially chilly. Pretty soon, he was sure, snow would be coming. 

Done, changing clothes, George left his room and headed outside. The crisp morning air greeted him and he breathed in, relishing the clean scented air. 

After stretching for a few minutes, bringing some more blood back into his limbs, he entered the small house where his chickens were currently in. Scattering a couple seeds, George bent down and retrieved two eggs from the nest. As he stood up, his chickens crowded around him, pecking at his shoes, demanding more food. 

With a wry smile, George raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry guys, that was all I got. I'll come back later with more, okay?" Finally, realizing that they wouldn't be getting any more seeds, his chickens waddled back to their nests and stared at him with reproachful looks. 

Laughing a little, George left the house and closed the gate behind him. Cracking the eggs open into two clay plates, he shoved the food into a separate furnace. Behind him, the backdoor creaked open again and Dream entered the kitchen, adjusting his mask in place. 

"Damn, it's freezing." Dream rubbed his hands together, shivering in his shorts and thin shirt. The first time George had saw the man wearing those clothes, his heartbeat had falter for a second, taking in the long legs and the way the shirt hugged his muscular shoulders. George could feel his ears burn at the memory and hurriedly forced down that recollection, focusing on the food cooking in the furnace. "How much colder is it going to get?"

"It probably get cold enough to snow soon," George replied, determinedly not looking at Dream directly, stoking the fire in the furnace. "You should probably get changed, breakfast will be ready in another minute."

Instead of a reply, George felt a presence behind him. Dream kneel down next to him and held his hands closer to the heat emitting from the furnace. "That feels so much better."

George was painfully aware of how close Dream's body was to him, their shoulders brushing light against each other. He forced himself to reply, "You're going to get burned."

"It's fine." Dream turned to him with a smirk. "Besides, even if I do get burned, you'll just fix it."

George snorted, still refusing to look the at the man. "Taking advantage of my kindness? What if I just left you with the burns?"

"Do you want that on your conscience?" Dream replied, his smirk widening. He inched his hands dangerously close to the fire. 

George glanced at the blonde man and sighed. "Please don't injure yourself just to prove a point. That's so childish."

"Fine." Dream withdrew his hand. He shakes out his hands which had turned a bright red. "Now my hands are too hot."

George took Dream's burning hands and dragged him toward the cauldron. He dunked the hands into the water, cooling off the skin. "You really would've put your hands in the fire, wouldn't you."

"Maybe." George took the hands out of the water and used a towel to dry them off. "If the end result was you taking care of me."

George blushed slightly. "You're such an idiot." He released the taller man's hands. "There, now can you please go get changed before you try to injure yourself?"

"Aye aye," Dream replied. The other man went back into his own room, closing the door behind him. 

George took the bread and eggs out of the furnace and separated them into two plates. He also placed a bowl of salmon that he had caught the day before in the river on the floor next to Clay, who was still sleeping. 

The door creak open again and Dream came out fully dressed in, what George assumed was, a lime green shirt, since it appeared a bright yellow to him, and also dark pants. He was also holding a new yellow hoodie in his hands. 

"Did you make these?" Dream asked, brandishing the new clothing. 

"Oh yeah! I forgot I left those in your room yesterday." George walked over and took the hoodie, smoothing it out compulsively. "Since I pretty much destroyed your old one, I made a new one. I'm not sure if I got the color right but I think I got the size right." He placed the clothing back into Dream's hands. "Besides, it's getting pretty cold so you'll need this." 

"I like it," Dream replied. He slipped the hoodie over his head and smoothed the front flat. The bottom hung a little loosely around his narrow hips and George had to admit, the style fitted the man. "You got the color exactly right too." He gave George a bright smile. "Finally I discover something you're good at." 

"Shut up," George mumbled, flushing at the compliment behind the joke. To distract himself, he reached behind the taller man and pulled the hood up over his face, brushing the fine blonde strands of Dream's hair. He pulled the drawstrings tight, closing the hood around Dream's face. 

George laughed as Dream gave a cry, trying to throw the hood off. When he finally got it off, giving George a disgruntled but playful look, George couldn't help but reach up and ruffled the man's blonde hair, messing it up even more, a small part of his mind marveling at how soft it was. Protesting, Dream swatted George's hand away and tried to fix his hair again. 

"Are you done abusing me now?" Dream grumbled, though a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm hungry and the breakfast you made isn't going to eat itself." As a response, his stomach growled loudly, demanding food. 

With a wide smirk, George replied, "Fine. I know how grumpy you'll get when you're hungry."

"I'm a growing boy." Rolling his eyes, George went to the chest and placed a bucket of milk on the table as well. Dream poured both of them a glass of the white liquid and proceeded to eat his eggs. George spread a thin layer of sweetberry jam over his bread, causing Dream to recoil in disgust. George stuck his tongue out childishly and ate the bread anyway. 

"So what are we going to do today?" Dream asked, his mouth full. George gave him a look of disgust and Dream shrugged and swallowed the rest of the food in his mouth. 

"Well I don't think there's anything that needs to be done today," George replied. "I did all my duties for the week and there's really nothing else that needs to be done immediately." He paused and thought for a second. "I might need to go back soon and check to see if all the soldiers are gone yet." 

"If you're free, then I think I want to try something with you," Dream said, leaning back in his chair, twirling his fork. "Do you have any wooden weapons?"

"I think there's some in my chests." George took a drink of his milk. "Why? What are you planning to do?"

Dream was silent for a long time and George looked at him in concern. The man was looking at the table, with a unreadable expression on his face. "Um, Dream?"

Dream looked up into George's eyes directly, his gaze intense and also a little sad. "You don't trust me yet."

George opened his mouth to protest and then closed it. There was on point in denying it. No matter how much he hated it, that small part of him made him wary of Dream and unable to trust him fully.

"Yeah, you're right," he replied, watching for Dream's reaction. 

The other man simply nodded, a sad smile on his face. "I don't blame you. I'm haven't been completely straight with you and it probably doesn't help that you don't even know what I look like." Dream leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "I've never been comfortable opening up to people or wanting to trust them. But I want you to be able to trust me. Can you give me that chance?" He looked at George, a honest expression on his face. 

After a few seconds, George leaned forward and lightly brushed Dream's arm. "I'm willing to give you that chance," he replied. Dream's face broke into a wide smile at those words. "But if you want me to trust you, I don't know what that has to do with wooden weapons."

"My friend and mentor once told me that fighting with someone is a good way to get to know who they really are," Dream explained. "You get to know how competent they are with weapons which is useful, but you also get to see their true nature. They don't hold anything back and you can kinda of tell what experiences they've been through in their life and what kind of person they are." 

"Sounds sappy," George teased. "But I'm down." He stood up, leaving his empty plate on the table. "If you can get these cleaned up, I'll get some weapons for us to use."

"Perfect!" Dream shoveled the rest of his breakfast into his mouth, making his cheeks bulge. George laughed at how childish and happy Dream was acting. In moments like these, George really felt that they could both trust each other. 

A few minutes later, they were outside a pile of weapons at their feet. 

"First though, we need to stretch," Dream told him. "It'll help you move better when we fight."

Together, they stretched out all their limbs, though George was partially distracted by how limber and flexible Dream seemed to be. 

Finally they were done with their stretches and started going through the pile of wooden weapons on the floor. Dream took two of the more decent axes and tested their weights, finally putting one back. "What are you going to use?"

George extracted a sword from the pile, satisfied with the balance. "I'll use this."

"Okay." Dream shuffled into a stance, his axe hanging casually by his side. "How good are you at using a sword anyway?"

"I'm not bad," George replied. Dream looked at him skeptically. 

"Whatever you say." Dream raised his axe. "But I'm going to start slow."

"Just shut up and come at me."

In response, Dream rushed him, bringing his axe in a deliberately slow swing toward his side.

Feeling slightly insulted, George took a minute step back. The axe flew by, an inch from his body. Before Dream could react, he lashed out a foot and kicked Dream's leg out form under him, bringing him down with a thud on his back. 

George pounced on him before he could get up, pinning both of the man's arms with his knees, the tip of the sword hovering over the heart. 

"Not bad," Dream said with a grin. "You're a lot faster than I thought you would be."

"Or you're just slow," George replied, returning the smile as well. His heart was thumping from the brief fight. It had been a long time since he had anyone to spar with and his blood was singing through his body with the thrill of battle. 

"Oh really?" George had a second to realize his mistake of goading the man before he was thrown off and flipped onto his back on the soft dirt, losing his sword somewhere. Winded from the impact, he felt a heavy weight on his body and realized his hands were pinned above his head and Dream's face was about a foot apart from his. 

George's face exploded into a fiery red at the compromising position he was in. He could feel Dream's cool breath against his cheek and he was sure the thumping of his heart was plainly audible as it tried to escape his rib cage. The strings of Dream's hoodie brushed his neck and the man's face was split in a shit-eating green. Through the holes in his mask, George could see the amusement in the yellow eyes. 

"So, who's slower now?" The slightly flirtatious tone left George even more flustered and his breath was coming in short gasps. Dream sensed his discomfort and rolled off, looking at him with concern. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine." His voice came out strained and breathless. "I just got the air knocked out of me." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "Besides, you were basically crushing me with your weight," he said with a smile. 

"Are you calling me fat?" George laughed at the indignant tone. "Dude, this is pure muscle." Dream flexed his arm, showing off his biceps. 

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." He leaped to his feet, brushing his jeans off. His heartbeat was settling back down and his face wasn't burning. "Can we fight for real now?"

Both of them retrieved their weapons and for the next hour, they lost themselves in a primal dance of battle. As they crossed weapons over and over again, George could feel what Dream was talking about. His skllls showed in the easy balance of his steps and expert grip on his axe but George also saw the true Dream he had been trying to find. He could sense the protective nature of this man and the skills he'd had honed to accomplish just that. With every blow, George felt himself getting closer and closer to Dream.

But George could also sense the dark angst that Dream held, a sort of frenzied fear and anger that caused him to fight so fiercely. Something had happened to Dream in his past that had forced him to hone his body and skills to protect others, but also himself. George resolved to himself that he would find out what was tormenting Dream and show him the way out of the darkness. If Dream couldn't leave, George would stay with him in the dark so he would never be lonely again. 

\--------

Dream took off his mask and splashed the cold water from the river into his face, washing away the sweat and grit that had gathered there. He washed off the rest of the sweat on his body as well, the cold water making goosebumps pop out. That done, he redressed and made his way back toward the house. 

Sparring with George was great. The brunette's skill was genuine and was well refined. He didn't need to hold back at all, a experience that he had only experienced with a few people. While Dream was stronger and had a longer reach, George was faster and he was able to slip through Dream's guard over and over again. A feeling of euphoria had taken him over and he lose himself in the battle. 

As they traded blows, Dream could sense a twang of loneliness and crushing obligation from George, those feelings hiding underneath his kind and generous nature. Dream could sympathize with the man. He knew the bitterness of loneliness and the crushing weight of responsibility that you could never put down. Before he had met his friends, those feelings were his only companions, bitter and crushing.

Realizing what he was doing, Dream shook his head quickly. It would only harm him if he allowed himself to dwell on his past. He had to keep moving, never letting himself stop moving and remembering the helplessness and terror. 

Reaching the house again, he saw that the door to George's room was ajar and when he looked inside, there was no one in there. Puzzled, he went outside again and saw the man splayed across the grass, hands crossed on his stomach, eyes on the sky. Clay was also lying down next to him, making small whimpering sounds. 

"What are you doing?" Dream sat down next to George, pulling his new green hoodie closer around him. It was windy outside and he was grateful for the warm hoodie that George had made. 

"Oh hey." George looked over at him, tilting his head. "I was just looking at the stars." George gestured to the sky. "There's a lot of stars out tonight."

"Mind if I join?" The shorter man shook his head and Dream laid on the ground next to George, feeling the soft grass tickling his ears. "I didn't realize that you were into this kind of thing."

"I like looking at the stars," George replied simply. "They're so bright and beautiful." 

"Like me?" Dream said, without thinking, causing his cheeks to flush slightly.

George looked over at him and gave a little smile. "So modest."

"You didn't answer my question," Dream said with a little pout, though he really wanted to know the answer. He playfully tugged the sleeve of George's hoodie. "Come on, Georgie. I need to know."

George laughed, swatting away his hand. "Fine, you're beautiful, Dream," he replied. "There, are you happy now that I've bolstered your self-esteem?" It might have been the dim lighting but Dream could swore that George was blushing slightly. 

"Yeah, I'm happy now." Grinning and blushing slightly himself, Dream turned back to look at the stars. They really were beautiful, burning as brightly as they could before going out. He wondered if he was like that, burning like a star until he extinguished himself. 

For a few minutes, the pair watched the stars while Clay slowly drifted off to sleep beside them until George broke the silence. 

"You were right about the sparring," the other man said, looking at him. "I feel like I know you a lot better now." 

"Good," Dream replied. "I feel like I know you better as well."

"And I want you know that I know there's something you're still hiding." Dream looked at George with alarm but the brunette continued. "I'll wait until you feel comfortable sharing and meanwhile, I'll help you as much as I can."

"Thanks," Dream said. "It's just that I've been running away from it so long and I'm scared of touching that place ever again. I just..." His voice faltered and he was unsure on how to proceed after showing such vulnerability. 

Instead of giving him a reply. George moved over onto his side and took one of Dream's hand in his own warm one. Dream felt a pulse of heat shoot through his body. "We don't need to talk about this. Not until you feel comfortable. Let's just look at the stars." His lips was parted in a way that made Dream want to lean forward and kiss them. 

He fought down that impulse and instead replied, "Okay." After a moment's hesitation, he clutched George's hand tighter, and interlaced their fingers. "Let's just look at the stars." George's hand also tighten on his own, warmth chasing away the cold. In that moment, Dream promised to himself that he would not only bear George's responsibility with him but he would also wash away the bitter sting of loneliness and burn as brightly as George needed him to lead the man out of the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave a comment on how the chapter was! And if you like, please leave kudos! Thanks!
> 
> P.S. I'm starting a new work that is coming out on Friday and I'll be updating that work every Friday and this one every Wednesday.


	6. The Snowfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been drowning in schoolwork the entire week and rewriting this chapter over and over again until it seemed somewhat good but here it is!  
> Hope you enjoy it!

"Dream, hurry up, I'm freezing out here!" George yelled into the house. "How long does it take to eat some bread?" A muffled yell answered him and George sighed in irritation as he leaned against the wall of his cabin, shivering in the frigid afternoon air. Beside him, Clay was curled up on the white grass, tucked in against the cold.

It had been a couple of days since the night he and Dream had fallen asleep under the stars and George decided it was time to revisit the spirit of the Forest, if only Dream would actually get going.

To be honest, though George had been dreading this day. He had grown used to the blonde man's company and he didn't want him to leave. But if there were no soldiers left in the Forest and Dream did decide to leave, then George would respect the man's choice and help him get back to the place he called home. 

"Okay, I'm ready." Dream came out of the house, slipping on the thick coat George left out for him. "Let's go." The eagerness in his voice wasn't lost on George, and that made it hurt all the more. 

Ignoring the ache of his heart, George plastered a tight smile on his face. "Come on." Together, they crunched through the frosted grass and entered the embrace of the Forest. 

\--------

Feeling the sting of the frosty air against his exposed face, Dream followed George as they weaved around the thick trunks of the trees. His breath appeared in white wisps that disappeared back into the air. Shivering, Dream pulled his coat tighter around himself and tried to keep up with the brunette who was forging ahead of him, pulling farther and farther away. 

Ever since they started walking, George had been uncharacteristically distant. An awkward silence hovered over them and Dream wasn't sure how he could break it. He seemed like something was eating at him inside.

Though it wasn't like Dream didn't have his own demons bothering him. Over the past couple of days, he spent sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed, trying to make up his mind about whether he could go back to the city or stay here even a little while longer. And he still didn't have an answer for himself. 

Pushing the persistent voices in his head away, he tried to focus on the present. George was a good dozen feet away from him at this point and Dream couldn't stand the distance that had grown between them, both literally and figuratively. 

"Hey, George wait!" George turned around, and Dream ran to catch up with him. "Come on, is walking with me that annoying?"

"Do I really need to answer that?" the other man said with a smile, though it came out a little strained. It was funny, Dream thought, that spending only a week with George he knew the man well enough to see past the false smile. "It's not my fault that you're so slow."

"Whatever," Dream grumbled. He rubbed his hands together to bring back some color to them. "I don't want to get lost in this place and then have to slowly freeze to death because someone left me behind."

"Awww, baby needs someone to hold his hand," George said a shit-eating grin on his face. The shorter man slipped his fingers into Dream's hand. "It's fine. Wouldn't want you to piss yourself because you got scared of some trees." 

"Shut up," Dream mumbled. He was trying to ignore how warm George's hand was especially since his own was freezing. "Would you want to be stuck in a creepy unfamiliar place?" 

George didn't give a reply besides a brief tightening of his hand. Throughout the rest of the walk, the only thing Dream could focus on was how George's hand seemed to fit perfectly against his. Now that he was thinking about it, he and George held hands a lot. He has never been someone who does something like hand-holding casually but, for some reason, holding hands with George made him feel like he could relax the shields he had built around himself. A constant anchor that would ground him even if he was about to be swept away. 

Far too soon, George's hand slipped out of his as they arrived in the clearing where they had met the spirit of the Forest. They sat down on the same log and without saying anything, they closed their eyes and made the mental connection that would bring them into the darkness. 

Feeling the brief weightlessness and then the transparent the ground underneath him, Dream stood up straight. Next to him, George was already walking over to the massive glowing tree. He followed the shorter man into the light, just a few paces behind. 

"Hey," George said, patting the trunk. "I'm back. How have you been?"

 _I'm fine,_ the spirit responded with its usual mental capabilities. _You've done a good job taking care of my physical form._

"That's good," George said, smiling. He didn't seem perturbed that he was basically having a conversation with a telepathic tree. _I guess you really can get used to anything_ , Dream thought. 

"Anyway, you remember Dream, right?" George continued, waving a hand in his direction. "Well, we need to see if his pursuers are still here if you'll let us."

 _Go ahead,_ the tree responded with a creaking of its branches in a phantom wind.

"Thanks." George turned to him, expression neutral. "After you whenever you're ready."

Taking a deep breath, Dream stepped forward and placed a palm on the trunk. A familiar wrenching sensation later, he was able to see the world from the perspective of the Forest. 

George's presence popped into existence next to him. _Come on_ , George said, pulling Dream deeper into the Forest with him.

For the next half an hour or so, they flashed through the Forest, looking for any sign of humans. The Forest, though, was empty and undisturbed, as if nothing had walked its floor since it was created. In fact, Dream thought, as they flew through the towering trees, even at night, the Forest was silent. There were no groans of the undead or rattling of bony ribcages or the dreaded hissing of the green explosive-filled creepers. Another perk of the Forest's protection, he assumed. 

Finally, after casing the entire interior of the Forest, they ended up at the boundary of the trees, looking down at the small camp that had been erected there. There seemed to be only five soldiers in the camp, most of them hunched over the blazing fire at the center. Several tents were structured around the fire and bright torches were placed around the perimeter. 

_Looks like most of them left_ , George said, his presence flitting around the camp. _I think we've seen everything. Let's go back_. His proximity blinked out, back to the Void.

Dream withdrew his hand from the trunk, feeling his consciousness slam back into his own spiritual body. 

"So, looks like you can go back now, Dream," George said in an overly bright voice. He turned back to the tree. "Thanks for your help, but we need to go back now."

Without waiting for a reply, George took his wrist and flew upwards, leaving behind the glowing tree. The darkness became more pronounced until Dream's eyes opened, the bright afternoon light making him blink. Beside him, George was already up and whistling for Clay.

As the dog bound over, Dream watched George scratch his dog behind the ear and stroke his fur the way he liked it. He knew he should be relieved, happy even. He could finally go back to the city, back to his friends, back to the place where he had lived for his entire life. 

Instead, he only felt sadness. He knew that five soldiers wouldn't pose much of a threat to him and he could always slip by them back to the city. But that would mean leaving George behind. The dark-haired man had saved his life and made him feel safe with his warm, gentle hands. The man he promised that he would never leave, never abandon. As those thoughts ran through his head, George turned to him with that blinding smile, that he would never make normally. 

"Should we start heading back?" he asked in a cheerful voice. "If we start walking now, I can gather supplies for you and you can be ready to leave in an hour or so."

"But there're still soldiers here...," Dream said, trying to find an excuse, however weak, to give himself more time to think. 

George gave him a funny look. "Are you serious? You're telling me that you can't handle five soldiers. You don't even have to fight them. Just sneak by. The boundary's too big for five people to cover it completely."

"Ye-yeah, you're right," he said, turning away from that disgustingly cheerful mask. "Can I stay here for a minute?" 

"Of course," George replied, still smiling. "I'm going to head back, though. There's a lot of stuff that I need to pack for you." 

"Okay." George gave him another bright smile and whistled for Clay. Both of them were soon gone, swallowed up by the trees. 

Dream sat down on the log again. His thoughts were driving him nuts and fucking George wasn't helping with that fucking simpering voice.

He knew that he should go back. Go back and leave this brief episode of his life behind him. He shouldn't let someone he's known for barely a week to prevent him from going home and back to his friends. 

But George wasn't just "someone he's known for barely a week." He had turned into something much more than that. The brunette had saved his life, welcomed him with open arms, and shown him a world where he could feel safe. Being in George's presence made him feel as if he could lower the shields he used to keep the rest of the world at bay. In the city, no matter where he was, he could never feel comfortable, always having to breathe behind the suffocating wall that he had built around himself. Only his closest friends gave him any semblance of peace and safety. 

In the Forest, though, with George by his side, he could breathe, unfettered by the taint of his past. With George, he could build a new world for himself, a new world where he could leave everything behind and start a new home. If he went back to the city, he would trap himself behind that wall of iron again once again. Was a place where he never felt safe or content a place he could really call home?

But if he stayed in the Forest, he would also be leaving his friends behind along with everything else. He couldn't leave them believing forever that he was dead and never coming back. They deserved better than that, after all that they've helped him with. 

Dream sat on that log, turning his thoughts over and over again in his head. The sky darkened above him, the last vestige of daylight sinking below the horizon. His hands were long ago numb from the cold but when he stood up, he knew he had to go back and settle this now. Ignoring the lingering doubts that still plagued his mind, he started walking over the frosted grass, until white flakes started to drift from the sky. At first, it was just a couple shards of condensed ice crystals but then hundreds of thousands more followed, landing on the grass, the leaves, and Dream's own blonde hair. Taking that as a good sign of the decision that he had made, he mentally shook away all of his persistent doubts and relieved from the weight of his thoughts, ran back to George. 

\---------

George was starting to worry that Dream really had gotten lost in the Forest. The bag he had packed an hour ago sat next to Dream's own bag against the log he was sitting on. The crackling fire he had built keep him from petrifying in the icy air but it did nothing to relieve the heavy sense of despair inside him. 

Before he had met Dream, he had been doing perfectly fine. Sure he had been a little lonely but the satisfaction of knowing that he was keeping the Forest alive eclipsed those feelings. Now that satisfaction seemed to become unable to replace the hopelessness that he would gain for losing Dream's company. 

George shoved those thoughts aside and took a deep breath. He had already promised himself that he wouldn't hold Dream back. He couldn't appear so weak to the man that Dream would feel guilty and stay. He would help Dream back to the city, the place where the man belonged without the man worrying and he would find a way to cope with himself. His mind made up, George stared into the depths of the fire, ignoring the stuttering of his broken heart as he waited for Dream to come back. 

\--------

The cold air sheered Dream's lungs but he still pushed himself forward, legs pumping with the desire to see George. The snow whipped by his face, partially blinding his vision, though he didn't slow down. 

Minutes later, he saw a glowing light that burned through the darkness that had fallen over the Forest and he pushed himself faster to reach that beacon that would surely bring him to George.

\--------

As the snow fell from the sky thicker and faster, George got up to search for Dream, lest the other man froze to death in the wild. As he reached the treeline, there was a sudden sound of rapidly approaching footsteps that came right in his direction, and Dream burst out of the trees, barreling right into him. 

The blonde man's momentum sent both of them tumbling backward into the snow that layered the ground. George felt his back crunched into the soft snow and gasped, trying to regain the breath he had lost. 

"Oh shit! George are you okay?" Dream's panicked voice hovered over him as he felt himself being shaken. "George!" 

"I'm okay, Dream," he said, stopping the man's hands from shaking him anymore. "Just stop shaking me."

"Oh thank god," Dream breathed, relief in his voice. 

"Are you okay yourself, Dream?" He touched Dream's hands to find them burning cold. "Your hands are literally frozen solid." 

Dream's fingers gripped his tighter. "I'm fine, George. I need to talk to you."

"Well, talk over here." He dragged the blonde over to the fire and made him sit down with him. As the fire washed over Dream, pumping heat back into him, George worked on getting the blood flowing in Dream's hands. "Why were you running?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Dream replied. "George, I'm not going back." 

Surprised, George turned to the other man. "What do you mean you're not going back?" Despite the earlier promise he had made, his heart was starting to beat rapidly. "I already packed your bags and all the supplies you would need."

"Well unpack them 'cause I'm not leaving," Dream said matter-of-factly. "I'm staying here."

"If you're feeling guilty going back, don't," George replied, resuming his task of working on Dream's hands. "I survived by myself perfectly fine before you came along." He refused to look at the other man instead, focusing on his task. 

Dream's hands reached out and grabbed his, stopping them from moving. "You think I'm doing this just for you?" Dream said, his voice forceful.

George kept his eyes anywhere but Dream's face. "Why else would you not go back?" he replied. "I don't want you staying here out of pity."

"George, I'm staying for myself," the taller man said, shaking his hands a little. "I wouldn't stay here out of pity. That's the last thing I would do." 

Sick of Dream's continued arguing, George yanked his hands out of Dream's and glared at him. He was so sick of how stubborn the man was and he couldn't stand how much it hurt to deny himself what he wanted the most. "Don't lie to me!" he yelled, his hands clenched at his side. "Why would you stay here for yourself? You have friends that you can go back to, a place where you call home and you decide to give that all up to stay in an unfamiliar place with someone you barely know and you try to tell me that's not fucking out of pity?" His vision was starting to blur and he realized his eyes were tearing up. "How stupid do you think I am?"

Dream glared right back at him, looking unflinchingly into his eyes. "Well, you're being pretty fucking stupid right now." He leaned closer, and George refused to move back, to show any signs of weakness. "I know how it feels to be pitied and I hate it. I would never do anything out of pity and I'm not the self-sacrificing type. So believe me when I'm saying I'm staying for myself." 

Something inside George broke and the tears that had formed in his eyes started to slide down his face. "Stop, Dream. Just stop," he whispered, in a quavering voice, all the fight draining out of him. He was tired, so fucking tired of this. "It's not going to help if you stay and then leave later. I'll just hurt more."He hated showing weakness but he couldn't help it. He had to turn away from Dream, unable to look at the man anymore. He dropped his head into his arms, letting the tears flow, the necklace he always wore hanging in the air. 

Warm, steady arms wrapped around him pulling him in against a body. He didn't even try to push the other man away, too exhausted and spent from all the tears he already cried. When Dream finally spoke, his voice cracked slightly. "I'll say it over and over again, George. I'm not leaving you." George felt the embrace tighten around him. "Not now, now tomorrow, not ever." He could feel Dream take a shaky, unsteady breath. "Why would I leave the person I love?"

George's head jerked up quickly, almost cooking it against Dream's chin. "Wh-What did you say?"

"I said I love you, George." The blonde's voice was steadier and filled with conviction. "From now to the day I die." A soft thumb brushed away the tears on his cheek. 

"You're lying," George whispered, looking back down. His heart wanted to believe it so badly but his mind wouldn't let him. 

"George." Dream's gentle voice caused him to shiver. "Look at me. I'll show you I'm not lying." Dream's arms retracted and George looked up again as the other man push aside the mask that had seemed like such a permanent fixture on his face. 

Freckles were splattered across Dream's cheekbones, little dots accenting the tan skin. Dirty blonde bangs flopped slightly over onto the forehead, and a thin scar stretched from under Dream's right eye to his left eyebrow. The yellows eyes seemed to blaze, now that the mask was gone and in them, George could read the emotions. "I love you, George. I love the color of your eyes, the shape of your lips, and all the little things that make you George. Hell, I even love the fact that you eat your bread with literally pure sugar." Dream paused to take a breath. "Do you believe me now?"

\--------

"Do you believe me now?" The words sent Dream's heart hammering away in his ribcage as he waited for the brunette's reply. 

George's brown eyes stared into his, as he replied. "I do." A hand came up to brush his face. "I believe you, Dream."

"Good." He was surprised at how steady his voice was, compared to his pounding heart. Without his mask, the world seemed much more clear and brighter and George was no exception. White flutters of snow glittered on his dark eyelashes and his face was flushed from the cold. At that moment, Dream never wanted to kiss him as badly as he did now. 

So he did. 

\--------

Dream leaned over slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed George's with a feather-light touch, his hand coming up to cup George's face. 

Surprised, George made an unintelligible sound in his throat that caused Dream to jerk back quickly, hand falling from his face, apologies tumbling from his mouth. "Fuck, I'm sorry, George. I don't know what-!"

 _Oh hell no_ , George thought. He was tired of hiding, tired of waiting and he wouldn't let Dream regret showing his true feelings all because of his stupid mistake. So he grabbed the strings of Dream's hoodie and pulled him in, shutting his eyes as both of their lips met in a clumsy kiss. 

\--------

Dream felt George pull him closer and a second later, they were kissing again. 

His brain short-circuited, all thoughts flying out the window, the only thing in his mind George and fucking _George_ kissing him. His throbbing heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his heart. Was it the best kiss? Probably not, but at that moment, it was the best moment in his life. 

\--------

Dream's lips were really chapped, George thought in the very back of his fevered mind. And really warm. 

He felt the other man soften the kiss, and a calloused hand came up to rest at his cheek, sending shivers down his body. 

He felt weightless, and as if the ground underneath him had vanished, as if he was falling, falling for Dream. 

\-------

Soft and warm, Dream thought, slipping his eyes shut. So soft. Seriously, George had the softest lips he had ever kissed.

His hand moved from George's face to the man's hair, threading the soft mane. His heart was starting to settle back into a more comfortable rhythm, as his initial surprise faded and his mind was made up. 

He would stay here together with George and create a new life for himself. And if the other man was ever falling, Dream would be there to catch before he hit the ground. 

\-------- 

After what seemed like an eternity, George felt Dream break the kiss, moving back an inch or so. He opened his eyes to see the other man look at him with the happiest expression he had ever seen. 

"Hey," Dream whispered, his voice barely a breath in the air. 

"Hi." George's head was still spinning and he couldn't find anything to say after that moment. He fumbled for words in his brain and said, "So you really are going to stay?"

"Really," Dream replied, still holding his hand. George wanted him to never let go. 

"What about your home?" He had to know and assure himself that this was going to be true.

"Never felt like a home." 

"You're okay with leaving what's familiar behind?"

"Familiar is boring."

"What about your friends?" 

"Fuck my friends." George had to smile at that. Dream's conviction and confidence in himself seemed unreal and George wished he had a fraction of this man's belief in himself. "No more questions for now, okay,?" His hand squeezed George's. "Let's just watch the pretty snow."

George nodded and after a moment's hesitation, leaned his body against Dream's. The other man's hand released his to wrap around his aside, pulling him in even closer. Together, in a newfound silence, they watched, warmed by the other's body and the blazing fire, the snowfall as it bleached the world a pure, undefiled white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, things are starting to speed up now! And I just want to say again, if either George or Dream express their discomfort of fanfics like these, I'll take it down immediately.  
> Anyway, leave a comment if you want to say anything. They really make my day and I try to respond to all of them. Thanks!


	7. The Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little backstory on both Dream and George with a surprise at the end. I hope this chapter was intelligible; I did this in one sitting for 4 hours and who knows what I wrote.

"Hey, Dream." 

"Hmm?" 

"Do you think we could go back in?" 

"Why?"

"I can't feel my hands anymore." 

It was true. They had sat there like idiots on a piece of wood while the snow was piling around them for an hour and now George's entire body felt both insubstantial and heavy at the same time. His butt seemed to be molded to the log at this point. 

"George?" 

"Yea?" 

"Me neither."

They really were idiots. 

\--------

It took a couple of minutes of stiff walking before they reached the blessed warmth of the house. The heat from the fireplace seeped into Dream's bones, melting the stiffness in them. He sighed in relief as blood returned to his limbs and he could move them again. 

"That was the worst idea I've ever had," he said, more to himself than George. The brunette gave him a look that showed his agreement, his lips curved in that smile that sent his heart doing a little tap dance. 

"No shit." George moved closer to the fireplace, placing his hands over it. "I don't know what you were thinking, making us stay outside while it's snowing."

"Hey, you didn't have to stay!" he protested, shoving the brunette playfully. "Don't blame it on me."

"What, would you have rather me just leave after a moment like that?" George shot back. "You were all 'George, I love you so much. Let's watch the pretty snow.' What was I going to do, just up and leave?" 

Dream blushes as George did a horrible impression of him. There were times like these that George seemed to be a real person. His kindness and compassion made him seem like such a saint that it was unreal. It was a relief when he realized that George had much more depth to him. 

"I'm glad you didn't leave," he replied hesitantly, sitting down awkwardly next to George in front of the fire. He was still trying to navigate the unexplored waters of expressing his emotions and at the moment, he still wasn't comfortable with it. 

After a moment of hesitation, George leaned closer to him. "Me too," he whispered. Dream's breath caught in his throat as he felt George's breath against his face. The shorter man was leaving the choice to close the distance up to him and there was no way he was going to refuse. 

He closed the last few centimeters between them and lightly kissed George. Sparks seemed to explode in his chest and he felt George's hand curl over his own. When they broke apart, his face was extremely warm and George, whose complexion was rather pale, looked like he suffered a bad sunburn. 

"You look like someone who accidentally ate the sun or something, George," he said, poking the red cheeks with a grin. "Your face's so red." 

"Shut up. Like you can talk." The other man poked him right back, and for the next few minutes or so, both of them rolled around on the floor, trying to poke the other in the face and sides, while giggling like kids. 

"Okay, Dream, stop," George said, swatting his hand away as Dream tried to poke him again. "I want to go to sleep and you're like trying to tickle me." 

"Fine, fine." He got up and held a hand out to George. The brunette took his hand and heaved himself up. 

Dream hung the thick coat that George lent him on one of the shelves, letting it dry from all the melted snow, George doing the same beside him. He opened the door to his room and then hesitated. It didn't feel right to separate himself from George right now and he wanted to stay with him. But he also didn't want to appear too clingy. "George..."

"Yeah?" The other man was standing in his own doorway and turned around at the sound of his voice. 

Dream hesitated and then decided to just drop it. "Never mind. I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, George." He closed the door before he could hear George's reply. He leaned heavily against the wooden surface, sighing. 

_Well, you're not going to fix anything by standing there like a dumbass,_ his brain said. _Go to sleep._ Deciding to do the logical thing now, he changed into shorts and a soft white shirt. As he slipped under the covers, he gave a shiver. The air had a cold bite to it now but it felt like something more than that. Ignoring it, he just wrapped the blankets even tighter around himself and closed his eyes.

\--------

George couldn't sleep. For the past hour or so, he'd been turning around and around in his bed, the frame creaking noisily in the silence. He felt restless and his mind refused to shut down. The chilly air tore at any exposed skin and yet it didn't seem to matter. The cold seemed to penetrate all of his barriers until it rested at the core of his body. 

His body was yearning for Dream, he realized. He had so quickly gotten used to the other man by his side, their combined warmth keeping away the cold and the bitterness of loneliness. 

Finally, not being able to stand it, he gathered the blankets around himself and left his room, trying to walk as quietly as possible. His hand was raised to knock on the door but then he hesitated. 

_Would this make him look too clingy_? That thought popped into his head and for a second, he considered just going back into his room. Remembering the look on Dream's face when they kissed and all the time they've laughed together, his resolve strengthened. He wouldn't deny himself what he wanted anymore. He's done that enough times to last him his entire life. Gently, he knocked his knuckles against the dark wood of the door. 

Straining his ears, he could hear the creaking of a bed and the shuffling footsteps of someone who just woke up. A second later, the door opened with a rusty squeal. 

"George?" Dream's eyes peered at him blearily and his hair was a mess of curls on his head but George still felt his heartbeat skip in his chest. 

"Sorry, it's just..." George took a deep breath and forced the rest of his sentence out of his mouth, blushing furiously. "Can I sleep with you?" 

For a beat, there was silence and George's heart sank as he tried to backtrack. "For-forget that, I don't what I was saying," he stammered, backing away, eyes downcast. "I'll go back to sleep."

"No, wait George." Dream's arms came around him, long tanned limbs folding around him and his blankets. "It's fine. I want you here too." The taller male pulled back and took his arm. "Come in."

After a few minutes of rearranging their blankets and awkward shuffling as they repositioned their limbs. Both of them seemed too afraid of touching the other and as a result, both of them were stiffly lying on the bed, separated by a few inches of space. 

Dream made the first move, hesitantly touching his hand, a question in it. George answered by squeezing the offered hand. He turned on his side to look at Dream and found the other man facing him as well. Their interlocked hands settled in the space between them. But still, the chill lingered.

Gathering his nerves, George moved closer and closed the last few inches of distance between them, pressing himself against the taller man's body. Dream took a sudden breath, but his arm immediately came to wrap around George's body, settling at the small of his back, resting against his spine. Their legs were entangled around each other, a constant comfortable reminder of what they had become. 

Through the soft fabric, pressed against the man's chest, he could feel the ridges in Dream's body, the craters of scars that littered his body, and the steady heartbeat that pounded a mantra that matched his own. _I love you. I love you. I love you._ "Dream..." 

"Mhmm?" he replied, voice blurred by sleep and contentment. 

"I just realize I never said it back," George whispered, tilting his head to look at Dream. "I love you too, Dream."

The pressure on his back tightened for a second. Dream looked down at him, the dark hiding his expression. The other man leaned down slowly, breath ghosting against his lips. George closed his eyes, as their lips met in the soft glow of passion and love. Dream's hand slipped under his shirt, grazing the skin underneath, causing him to shiver. "Thank you," Dream breathed, his breath a minty mist. "Thank you, George."

Together, legs wrapped around the others, breath sharing the same space, heart beating to the same words, they slipped into a dreamless sleep, warmed by the other's presence, and for the first time in a while, both felt they have reclaimed what they have always been denied.

\--------

Dream's woke to find the warmth of a body pressed against his. He looked down to find a familiar head of dark hair nestled against his chest, the body moving with the steady inhales of sleep. A feeling of warm contentment spread inside of him and he couldn't resist pressing a kiss against the head of the man he loved. George gave a small movement, burrowing deeper into his body. "Leave me alone," the mumbled words came out. 

Dream chuckled. "Never," he murmured, feeling the silken black strands tickle his Adam's apple. "I'm going to stay here with you forever, Georgie. Every minute of your life, I'll always be by your side."

"Ugh, I wouldn't have told you I loved you if you were going to be so clingy," George grumbled into his shirt. 

"Look who's talking. Am I the one who crawled into his boyfriend's bed in the middle of the night?" His only response was a pinch in his stomach. He jolted, laughing. "Ow! That hurts!"

"I take everything back. I don't love you anymore, Dream," George said, glaring up at him. 

"But I'll still love you and that's all that matters," he replied, pecking George's forehead. "Okay, babe?"

"Okay, first of all, don't call me babe," George said, rolling back a bit to give himself more room. Dream already missed the absence of George pressing against him. 

"How about sweet peach?" His face was in a wide grin he couldn't help. Just being able to lie here in bed with George, talking about meaningless things, seemed like a dream. George gave him a look of utter disgust that made him wheeze with laughter. He leaned closer and said, "Okay, how about Georgie then?"

The brunette flushed slightly, the pink making his pale face glow. "Whatever," he muttered, trying to scoot further back but Dream's hands had gone to his waist, preventing him from doing so. 

"Then can I kiss you, Georgie?" The words were barely audible but he knew George heard them. George gave a slight nod and with a triumphant smirk, Dream closed the distance between them. When he pulled back, there was a predictable radiant blush though Dream was sure he was sporting one as well. "Okay let's start over. Good morning, George. I'm your new boyfriend, Dream, and from now, I'll be here by your side, day or night."

"Bold of you to assume we're boyfriends, Dream," George said, a raised eyebrow pointed at him 

"What do you call this then?" he challenged. "What would you call someone you crawl into bed with and kiss?"

"Friends with benefits," George deadpanned, a smile clearly trying to show through. 

"Wait, hold up. Are you calling me a friend with benefits?" Dream sat up from the bed, staring at George while the other man laughed at his reaction. "George!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." George lifted himself next to him, wrapping his arms around his neck. He could smell the other man's scent of clean grass and fire. "I'm sorry for upsetting you, Dream. Please don't break up with me." 

"I'll consider it," he replied, returning the embrace, nudging his way into the crook between the shorter man's neck and collar bones. "Why do you smell like fire first thing in the morning?"

"Why, would you prefer something else?" George released his embrace and stood up from the bed, stretching his arms. Dream found his gaze traveling to the pale stomach that was exposed when the shirt rode up. 

"Hm, not really. It's a very you smell." He also untangled himself from the sheets, rolling his shoulders to get rid of the kinks there. "I like it."

"Uh-huh," the other man said. He turned to Dream and gave him an unreadable expression, though he didn't say anything.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He said, shuffling a little. 

"Dream." The change in tone made Dream look over sharply. "We're going to need to talk. About everything."

Dream sighed. Truth be told, he knew that last night had been a roller coaster of emotions and they hadn't gotten the chance to sit down and talk it over, which they probably should've done. "Yea, I know."

"Meet me outside when you're done changing?" The brunette was at the door, hand on the knob. 

"Sure." The door closed behind George with a click. He heard the other man's footsteps fade away and decided to get dressed. He didn't really want to talk about the life he had now left behind, but he owed George to tell him his past. 

\-------- 

"I'm here." George turned to find Dream standing next to him. Outside, the blonde's footsteps were virtually silent, a hunter's tread as he hunted his prey. Dream had left his mask off and he was glad. He had been afraid that the other man would put himself behind that mask again, closed off again. 

"I didn't hear you." Dream shrugged slightly and George smiled. He patted the space next to him on the log he was sitting on. "Come sit down." As Dream lowered himself, George handed him one of the apples he was holding. "Here, you must be hungry."

As if on cue, Dream's stomach rumbled loudly and his smile widened. The other man rolled his eyes. "What? I'm hungry, of course, my stomach is going to complain." He bit into the apple George gave him. 

"I'm glad you didn't put your mask on," George said to start the conversation. "I was afraid you would put it back on." He spun the apple in his hand to prevent himself from fidgeting. 

"I wear it around people I'm not familiar with," Dream replied, speaking through the apple in his mouth. "My job is safer if my identity is secret." 

"I'm going to take a wild guess and assume you're a hunter," George remarked, looking at Dream. "Just not for animals." 

Dream was silent for a minute. Finally, he said, "You're not wrong. But it's not as simple as you think." He took a deep breath and launched into an explanation. "What do you know about life outside the Forest?"

George racked his mind for a second. "I know that there's a city where hundreds of people live together. I've heard rumors of explorers who try to map the world and start more settlements."

"Well, those stopped a while ago," Dream said, pulling his arm back and heaving the apple core far into the trees. A faraway thump sounded out when it landed. George handed him the second apple without question. "Are you sure? You should eat something too."

"I'm fine. Besides, this conversation is going to be pretty long and I don't want you to get hangry." Dream took the apple, immediately devouring it. "Anyway, what were you saying about the explorations stopping?"

"They were forced to stop. By a group of people who called themselves the Elites," Dream said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "They took over everything and kept us in the city, forbidding anyone to explore the land any further. All to control us more securely."

"But they're only a group, of what like thirty people?" George asked, trying to picture everything. 

"There were thirty-five but there's only twenty now." The tone in Dream's voice told George that those fifteen people didn't die by an accident.

"Okay, so it was thirty-five people against hundreds. How did they subjugate you when you had so many more people than them?" George pressed. He couldn't understand how hundreds of people could lose to only thirty-five individuals. 

"That was what we thought too when we tried to overthrow them," Dream said, his apple half-eaten in his hand. He seemed to remember something painful and George took his hand and clasped it reassuringly. Dream squeezed his hand back and continued. "Turns out they've been preparing for years for this. They had vast amounts of resources and they managed to find a method to create these iron golem-like creatures. They had about seventy-five of those in their army and they were practically unstoppable." Drem took a shuddering breath, his voice strained as he continued. "They killed so many people, George. They crushed my friends into a stain on the ground and ripped them apart. They left this scar on me." He pointed to the thin scar under his eye and ended in his forehead. "We had to surrender we realized that we weren't going to win," he said in a choked voice, eyes bright with unspilled tears. The apple fell onto the ground, forgotten.

George covered the man in a tight embrace as Dream buried his face in his shirt, trying to say that he understood him. Understood the pain of losing those you held dear. Understood the crushing despair when you realize that they weren't coming back. "Dream, what happened wasn't your fault," he whispered, stroking the man's back as Dream shook in his arms. Dream had always seemed to aloof and distant, a steady emotionless rock, but there were moments like these when his emotions broke through the shell around him and George could see how strongly he felt them. "You were fighting for a better future for everyone. Your friends knew that and they knew what they would risk but they still fought anyway. They still fought because some things are worth risking your life for."

"They weren't fighting because they were prepared to sacrifice themselves. They were fighting to give themselves, the people they loved, and the world a future to live for," George continued, his calm demeanor starting to crack. "And I know for a fact, that if they really were your friends, they wouldn't want you to live in the past. You can't control your past but you can choose the path to take for the future. Okay?"

It took a few minutes for Dream to regain the ability to speak. "Okay. It's just..." he said in a slightly shaky voice. "It's been so long since I allowed myself to think about them and every time I do, I feel like I'm drowning." 

"I'll always be here, Dream," George said, his hand on Dream's back. "No matter what, I'll always come and save whenever you go under." 

"Thanks." Dream lifted his face from his shirt. "I love and I'm glad you're here. Really."

"Me too," George replied, still clutching Dream's shoulders. "You don't need to tell me any more, Dream."

"No, I want to finish." Dream fidgeted slightly and then went on. "From there it's been pretty downhill. They stationed patrols around the cities and started collecting taxes on people. Food became rarer and we were trapped inside the city and only allowed the small amount of land for animals and farming. A month into this, the Shadows contacted me."

"The Shadows is a vigilante group that started doing raids on the Elites' houses. They took what they could in terms of valuables and food and distributed it around the population. The leader started training me when he realized my potential and eventually, I started going on solo hunts where I went after the Elites themselves. Which I was doing on the night I arrived here. And that's pretty much it," Dream finished.

George couldn't think of anything to say so he just squeezed Dream's hand. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything, George. It's a lot to take in," Dream replied. "I want to ask you something though."

"Yeah?"

"Would you come with me to the city for a couple of days?" Dream asked. "I need to tell my crewmates and friends everything and how I'm leaving the city."

George nodded. "Of course, I'll come. I can start packing things and we can leave in a couple of days."

"Okay, good," Dream replied. "But enough about me, tell me about your past."

"It's nothing compared to yours," he said. "It's been a while but I can kinda remember staying in this little village with about fifteen other people but then something happened and I had to get out so I came into the Forest. It took a while for me to figure out everything but eventually, I became the caretaker of this place and lived here ever since. I get a couple of people every now and then; mostly they were lost and need a place to stay before moving on. Some of them called me a Hermit and it sounded cool, so I took that as my title."

"I'm glad you don't have anything traumatic in your past," Dream said, leaning against him. "That you were able to have a peaceful life." 

"Too peaceful," George said. "It's been kinda lonely and dull, living this way for years and years. At least, until you came along." 

"I'll hold you to that then. Let's see how long it'll take for you to get sick of me," Dream teased, his old cheerful voice back. 

"Never." George gave a little peck on Dream's cheek and smiled. "I'll never get sick of you." He stood up and dragged Dream with him. "Come on, let's get some food into you before you pass out." Wheezing, Dream followed him and for the rest of the day, George's smile never left his face. 

\--------

Dream crunched through the piles of dry leaves on the ground as he searched for a suitable tree to chop down. It had been a day since their conversation on the log and they learned quickly to occupy the same place with each other. Right now though, George needed oak wood and the nearby areas were comprised of spruce. So here he was, walking in the direction George pointed him in. 

A nearly silent footstep sounded out behind him and Dream immediately turned around, his instincts screaming enemy. That footstep was too heavy to George and besides the brunette was all the way back home right now. That could only mean a soldier or anything that was hostile really. 

A dark blur swung toward him and he barely got his ax up in time to block the sword. He quickly rolled under his assailant's arm and turned around, prepared to bury his ax into his enemy's spine until he felt the cold tip of a sword press against his Adam's apple. He instantly froze, unable to move.

"You're slacking, Dream." A familiar monotone voice rang out from under the hood and Dream's eyes flickered up to his attacker's face, relief racing through him followed by a quick burst of irritation. 

Moving back a couple of inches, enough so that he wouldn't accidentally get a sword through the throat, he replied, "Hello, Technoblade." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Technoblade has joined.* Dun-dun-dddduuuunnn!  
> As always leave a comment if you want to say anything and kudos if you like!


	8. The Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than usual but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

"You're actually trash." Needless to say, Dream wasn't feeling as happy to see his friend/rival/leader as he should've been. 

"Of all the things you can say after finding a supposedly dead friend, and you say that?" Dream said irritatingly. Techno withdrew the sword and sheathed it. His mask was perched on his face as usual and his brilliant pink hair was tied back in a short ponytail. A smirk was plastered over his face, his sharp canines in plain view. 

"Well, it's the truth," Techno replied with a shrug. He held out a hand to him. Dream took it and was heaved onto his feet. "I took you down in like five seconds flat." 

"Whatever." His annoyance gave his words a small bite to them. "How did you even find me?"

"Dream, I think I would notice if a party of fifty soldiers was dispatched outside this forest," Techno said sarcastically. "And the fact you never came back from your hunt, I could assume that something went wrong." The broader male looked him up and down. "But you seem pretty fine to me."

"I did almost die," Dream admitted. "But I'm okay now." 

"Who saved you?" Techno asked. "Was it that Hermit?" 

Dream's head snapped up sharply. "How do you know about him?" George had told him before that the Forest surrounded his house is a barrier that protected him. Nothing with ill intent could get anywhere with a mile of the house unless they managed to slip through a hole the Forest had opened, like how the soldiers had managed to enter the area when Dream was invited in. But then again, Techno probably didn't have any malicious intent against George. The man was only in here to find him and Dream knew enough about the Forest that it was sentimental toward that kind of thing. 

"What do you mean, how do I know about him?" Techno quipped with a raised eyebrow. "You mean besides the fact that there's just a house right in the middle of this place? The fact that I found you two cuddling yesterday morning on a log?" 

"Were you spying on us?" Dream's face flushed red and he desperately wished that he had his mask to hide behind now. In his mind, he could see Techno perched on a branch as he watched the rather bizarre sight of his friend hugging someone who neither has met before just a week ago. 

"Well, I was just going to stop by and ask if he's seen you come by or something, but you two looked rather busy so..." Techno's voice trailed off but Dream could hear the amusement in his damn monotone voice. "So I waited until you were alone and decided to ambush you. And lo and behold, my masterful plan worked."

"Masterful, my ass," he shot back. "I could literally hear you coming from a mile away, snorting like a pig."

"Which is why I took you by surprise?" Techno could never leave an insult, no matter how small it was, alone and Dream could hear the tone that was a warning for some but only encouragement to him. 

"Didn't want your ego to be bruised if your 'masterful plan' just ended up with me knocking the shit out of you," he pressed, smirking. It had been so long since he had a good fight with Techno and he and George had been busy the past days, unable to replicate that sparring they had done before. Even if they had, fighting with Techno was different. Fighting with George was like watching an artist wielding a brush. His movements were smooth and confident, free of any unnecessary moves. And like how an artist's brushstrokes didn't make any sense in the beginning, George's masterful transitions were undecipherable until the man was closer, sword whipping out toward his body. But it didn't inspire fear the same way Techno's sword did. 

When he fought with Techno, Dream could feel the pressure of death upon him, the feeling that if he messed up, his life would be forfeited. That thought made his blood race with terror yes, but also elation. It was, in part, what made him such a good fighter. When confronted with a life or death situation, he didn't shrink back. Instead, he would push forward, welcoming the sensation of his blood pulsing through his beating heart and the physical high that made adrenaline burn his veins. Maybe that was why he could never resist taunting Techno until the man exploded. 

"Now, you're just asking for it." Techno slid his sword out again with a rasp from the sheath. A shiver ran down Dream's spine at the familiar sound and the weight of his life on his shoulders. He set his bag down onto the hard-packed dirt slowly, eyes intent on his rival's movement. "Remember, no hard feelings when I cut your throat open."

Dream hefted his ax, raising it over his shoulder, and said the line that would, without a doubt, spark Techno's rage:

"Shut up and bring it, bacon boy." 

And bring it he did. Techno's movement, lacking George's gracefulness, none the less had its own finesse and precision, bringing his sword within range of Dream's body. Acting on carefully honed instincts and reflexes, Dream spun, giving his ax momentum before meeting the sweeping sword blow. He threw off the sword, and elbowed Techno in the stomach, driving the man back a few steps, following up with an overhead chop. 

Techno took the blow with the blade of his sword and then skillfully guided it so it slid off his sword into thin air. Dream barely moved his head back to prevent himself from being decapitated by the follow-up slash. As it was, he felt a thin cut open up on his collarbone and hot blood leaked slowly from it. 

As if he was enticed by the blood, Techno gave a feral grin and pushed his advantage, dealing a series of swift strikes that left no room for a counterattack or dodging. Dream could barely defend himself and the weight on his shoulder intensified as his body felt the impending doom of death. And yet, he felt like laughing. This was what he existed for. He breathed in the slightly coppery scent on his blood, the smell of the sparks that flew from their weapons as they clashed, the euphoria of battle. 

He felt his back hit the rough bark of a tree and on instinct, he ducked as Techno's sword came slashing by, cleaving a deep divot in the wood. Wood chips flew through the air and he sensed an opening. He charged forward, driving his shoulders into his rival, causing the man to fly back onto the ground. Without wasting any time, he whipped his ax toward his rival's heart, unsure if he could slow down. 

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw a slight movement in the branches of the towering trees and an instant later, something flew by and caught his sleeve, flinging him backward and pinning him onto the tree behind him. Turning his head, Dream could see the long shaft of an arrow and he quickly turned in the direction from where the arrow came from. There was only one person he knew with that level of accuracy and he wasn't disappointed to find that person crouched on one of the branches, headband flapping in the wind. 

"Are you idiots done trying to kill each other?" Sapnap called, a grin on his face. His bow was still pointed in Dream's direction, another arrow notched already. 

"I think we're done," Techno said, picking himself off from the ground. He gave a lopsided grin at Dream. "Your win." 

"Damn right, bacon boy." Dream pulled the arrow out of the wood. He examined his shirt and was kinda annoyed at Sapnap for ripping a hole in the shirt George made him. "Sapnap, did you have to make a hole in my shirt?" 

"What could've I done?" Sapnap's bow dropped from the tree and he followed, jumping down from the twenty-foot spruce and rolling onto his feet. "If I try to get between you two, I've would've been cut in half." He walked over, slinging his bow onto his back. "Why are you so salty? Is it because that shirt's from your boyfriend?" 

"Shut up," he grumbled. He picked up the bag he had tossed onto the ground and swung it over his shoulder. "Did you seriously bring everyone here, Techno?" 

"Come find out yourself," was the man's only reply. Techno started walking further into the Forest. "My innate GPS is telling me our camp's that way?" 

"Try again, human GPS," Sapnap said, pointing to the northeast. "Seriously, you left barely an hour ago. How did you already forget?" 

"Ask no questions, hear no lies," Techno responded, walking in the direction Sapnap pointed in. The shorter man rolled his eyes and followed. 

Dream chuckled to himself and followed. It was good to see his friends again. 

\--------

As they neared the camp which was fifteen minutes away, the sound of screaming and yelling could be heard. Dream gave an internal groan at the sound. He turned to Techno with a look of accusation and suffering. "Did you seriously bring him along?"

"Not my fault," the man replied, though the look on his face mirrored Dream's. "He kept bothering Wilbur and me until we promise to bring him along."

"It's been a nightmare," Sapnap added, hopping from one tree root to another. "We've set up camp a day ago and he hasn't stopped screaming or just being obnoxious in general." 

"When has he ever?" Dream mumbled, causing the shorter man to laugh. They walked into the camp where a few hastily propped tents were set up. The sound of screaming and yelling stopped for a second and Dream braced himself. 

"DREAM, MY MAN!" The loud voice was accompanied by a tall sixteen-year-old strutting over and giving him a one-arm hug. "My friend, you're alive!" Tommy said in his deep voice. 

"Yes Tommy, I am in fact still alive as you can clearly tell," he replied sarcastically. He was genuinely fond of Tommy but the boy's brash and loud nature sometimes grated on his nerves. 

"Tommy, stop fucking messing around and get some wood!" A tall lanky brunette marched over, his hair tucked messily over a beanie. "Seriously, if you wanted to come, then actually do something productive instead of sitting there screaming like a five-year-old." 

"But Wilbur, I was just greeting a long-lost friend who I thought was dead, leave me alone!" Tommy scurried behind Dream, looking over his shoulder at Wilbur.

"Tommy, Dream's been missing for a week, that's not 'long-lost.'" Wilbur pulled the boy out from behind Dream and dragged him back to the woods. The sight was so familiar that Dream couldn't help but laugh as Tommy tried to protest and fight. 

"Dream, you muffinhead!" An instant later, he was tackled by a dark blur. He hit the ground as all the air left his lungs. Just as he was regaining it, another weight dropped on top of him. 

"Dream, you're alive!" A second higher-pitched voice yelled out. 

"Bad, Tubbo, you're going to kill him!" Sapnap's voice joined though he sounded like he was laughing rather than concerned. 

Eventually, they got everything straightened out and Dream was able to breathe again. Bad and Tubbo were standing back a bit, smiling sheepishly. 

"Sorry, Dream," Tubbo said. "But you're alive!" The boy tackled him in another hug. "We can finally go back now!" 

Dream's mouth went dry. He should've been this coming but he didn't know how to respond. He had already committed to staying in the Forest and now, his friends who had managed to find him thought that he would be happy to go back. 

Thankfully, he didn't need to answer. "Okay, enough PDA," Techno cut in. "Dream and I need to talk." He dragged him toward the tree line while Bad, Sapnap, and Tubbo stared after them. 

They walked far enough so that they couldn't be overheard and Techno released him. "What's going on? Why do you have that look on your face?" he demanded. 

"What look?" Dream knew he was dodging but he didn't want to answer. 

"The look you get when you're about to break some bad news," Techno said. 

Dream knew that he couldn't hide it anymore. "I'm not going back Techno. I'm staying here with George." 

The man was silent for a couple of minutes. His face betrayed none of his emotions as he stared at him. Finally, he said something. "Why?"

"Because I'm not leaving him alone," he answered. 

"So to keep one person happy, you would abandon your friends and your duty?" Techno's usual monotone voice didn't change even with his accusation. He stepped closer to Dream. "Let me tell you something, Dream. Do you know why I created the Shadows in the first place?"

He willed himself not to step back. "To help the people in the city?" 

"To kill," Techno said. "To be able to have a justifiable reason to take the lives of others." He stepped back until he was no longer in Dream's face. "There's a reason why you and I are the strongest in our group. I know you feel the same thrill that I do when fighting. The fear that your life is really in your hands and the adrenaline you get from combat. And let me tell you something, people like that, you and me, are dangerous. We'll seek battle forever, never content unless we have a weapon in our hand and an enemy in front of us, never be content in peace. People like us aren't the heroes. We're simply the villains with the approval of the people behind us. And what do you think happens when we accomplish our goal? We'll never fit in, always looking for conflict. Our only hope is to accomplish what we can, put all the sins on our shoulders, and then die with dignity. You think staying here, living in peace day after day will actually satisfy you? Well, you're lying to yourself." 

Dream's mind was racing as Techno continued his brutal assault. "The rest of the Shadows, they're fighting to live, to have something they can cling morally onto. They see the lives they've taken and they know that it was done for a better future, to prevent any further lives from being lost. You and I fight for the sake of battle and vengeance, to satisfy our weapons. Can you feel the weight on all the lives you've claimed? The truth is Dream, you don't. I don't. The lives we've taken never affect us. You can think that saving lives can balance things out but that's not true. It just stacks up in a different pile. That's arrogance, to think that the lives you've taken can be so easily repaid by lives you've saved."

Techno swept out a hand. "When people start to lose emotions for the deaths they've caused, then they'll become monsters, able to do anything without feeling remorse. They trap themselves in a cage, chained by their bloodlust and trapped by the bones on their victims always hungering for more, unaware that they can never stop."

He pointed at Dream and said matter-of-factly. "You and I, the supposed heroes of this story are in that very cage, surrounded by the bones of our enemies, and our hunger for opponents to slay. "

"And we cannot escape." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't already tell, I'm obsessed with writing fight scenes even if they're not very good XD.  
> I saw Technoblade's latest stream and wanted to capture how Techno gives epic speeches in this chapter. Leave a comment if you think I failed or succeeded and kudos if you like. Thanks for reading!


	9. The Tyrant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating last week! Between school and Thanksgiving, I had pretty much no time to write this and this chapter wasn't something I wanted to mess up. So here's an update that wasn't done in like ten minutes. Enjoy!

Dream made his way back to George's house, his mind still back in that clearing with Technoblade. His bag was full of the oak wood that he had eventually found and his ax was in his hand, shaking slightly from the tremor in his fingers. He stopped for a minute to settle the trembling in his hand, his back against the rough bark of a towering tree. He took a deep shuddering breath as his grip on his ax tighten. 

The steady composure that he always had was gone now, blown to dust by the words of his own friend. In one conversation, all that he believed was changed. The haunting words came floating back to him. 

_You and I fight for the sake of battle and vengeance, to satisfy our weapons. Can you feel the weight on all the lives you've claimed?_

He never thought about it but he never really thought about the impact of his actions in taking the lives of his oppressors. Death and battle had always been in his life in some form or another, from fighting in a rebellion to fighting from the shadows. Blood was spilled and lives were lost. That was how battles worked and he never questioned killing the people that threatened him. 

_You can think that saving lives can balance things out but that's not true. It just stacks up in a different pile. That's arrogance, to think that the lives you've taken can be so easily repaid by lives you've saved._

Did he think that? That he could justify the blood on his hands by the act of helping people? If he was honest with himself, he always had the mindset that the end justified the means. What was the cost of one life, a life already corrupted with greed and power, when it meant he could save more with it? Was that arrogance, that he thought he could play god and decide what was worth a life? 

_When people start to lose emotions for the deaths they've caused, then they'll become monsters, able to do anything without feeling remorse._

And that was what scared him the most. That he was becoming something like the iron monsters that crushed so many of his friends, something without emotion, something that could only think about carnage and destruction. If there was anything he was scared of, it was that, losing his humanity. 

_You and I, the supposed heroes of this story are in that very cage, surrounded by the bones of our enemies, and our hunger for opponents to slay._

His thoughts were pulling him down, suffocating him, and his empty lungs heaved for air as he slumped to the base of the tree, palms against his head. Sitting there, alone with his thoughts, he could almost feel the rattling bones closing in on him. Dream thrived in battles but against his own rebellious mind, he could only suffer as his sanity was being torn apart. A scream was building in his throat and he felt like he would fall to pieces right there on the forest floor, trapped in his imaginary cage of bones and skeletons hissing the words _murderer, monster, weakling, villain-_

"Dream?" A voice pierced the buzzing in his head and he felt hands touch his shoulder. Looking up, he was blinded by the light and he blinked away the spots in his vision before he saw the person who brought him out of his own head. 

"George?" His voice was hoarse and scratchy as if his vocal cords had rusted. The brunette's eyes were gazing into his, concern in the dark orbs. He felt as if he reemerging from whatever place that his mind had dragged down into, his thoughts a little fuzzy and jumbled. So he sought what he wanted and reached out to George, burying his face into the other man's shirt as his body shuddered from the emotions swirling in him. 

Dream felt the brunette's arms circle around him, squeezing tightly. "It's okay, Dream," George murmured, gently stroking the hair at his nape. "It's going to be okay." Slowly, the suffocating vice in his chest loosened as he basked in George's warm presence. 

They stayed like that, curled up in the grass while his frantic breathing evened out for an indeterminable amount of time. George's hands never ceased their motion and he wanted to just sink into that feeling of peace and safety that he associated with the brunette. But he pulled himself away, letting go of George's shirt. "Thanks," he mumbled. "I think I'm good now."

George's hands trailed to his hand and grasped them tightly. "You sure?" the shorter man asked. 

"Yeah," he replied with an attempt at a smile. "I'm sure." He stood up, bringing George with him. 

"Okay." Thankfully, the brunette didn't press him for details or demand an explanation. George leaned in to lightly brush his lips again his own. Dream's eyes slipped shut as he returned the kiss. "Wanna go back?"

He nodded and picked up the ax and bag from the floor, shouldering them. The sight of the ax reminded him of his fight with Technoblade and the last words that his friend had left him with. 

_We'll be waiting at the border of the forest until dawn tomorrow. Go back and think about what I've told you. If you decide to come back to the city, we'll meet you at the border. Remember, dawn tomorrow._

George's hand slipped into his own again, squeezing it tightly as they made their way back home. Except, this time, he wasn't sure of what his future would look like. 

\-------- 

George was worried, to say the least. He had searched the Forest since Dream had disappeared for two hours, thinking he would find the blonde wandering around, lost. Instead, he had found his boyfriend curled up on the floor, shuddering and making these awful choking sounds. So as they walked back, he couldn't help but glance back at Dream now and then. 

Within half an hour, they were able to make it back to the house. "Hungry?" he asked. 

Dream shook his head. "Not really," he said. "More tired than hungry, really."

George squeezed the blonde's hand reassuringly. "Go take a nap. I'll have some food out when you wake up, okay?"

"Thanks." Dream kissed his forehead mechanically as if his mind was distracted by something else and then disappeared into his room. 

After sitting around for a couple of minutes with nothing to do, George picked up his bow again and headed outside to do some hunting. He made his way to his hunting ground, a clearing where he knew animals liked to congregate. And sure enough, pecking in the thick grass was a pack of chickens. 

He dropped two of them with his arrows before the rest figured out that there was a threat nearby, fleeing into the trees for cover. He didn't bother pursuing them. Two was enough for just him and Dream, though knowing the man's appetite, he might have to share some of his. 

For the next two hours or so, George worked on dinner. He roasted the chicken on the campfire and baked a loaf of bread to go with it. As an afterthought, he took some eggs and milk from the chicken and cows on his farm and baked a cake. He knew Dream didn't like sugary stuff but judging by how he was acting, maybe a little unhealthy snacking would be helpful. 

He quietly knocked on the door to Dream's room, listening to see if Dream was awake. A faint "come in" answered him so George opened the door and stepped in. 

Dream was on the bed, still in his clothes from this morning. The blonde was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest in the semi-darkness, staring at something that George couldn't see. It didn't seem like Dream had slept at all, to be honest. 

He came over and sat down on the bed next to Dream. The blonde leaned into him immediately, head falling onto his shoulder. "Hey."

Dream gave a quiet hum in response, his hand seeking out George's. If there was anything George knew about Dream, it was that he was an extremely touchy person, always craving physical contact. Not that George was complaining. After years of solitude, it was nice to have someone nearby who could show him affection.

"How're you feeling?" he whispered. 

"A little better," Dream replied, voice still distorted with a little rusty creak in it. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" George asked. He didn't want to make Dream feel uncomfortable but at the same time, he wanted to help the man get through whatever happened in the Forest. "It's okay if you don't want to."

Dream was silent for a long time. Nothing but the increased pressure on George's hand gave any indication that he had heard the question.

"Am I a monster, George?" Dream said, abruptly. 

"What?" George turned to look at Dream, startling the man's head off his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"

The blonde looked at him desperately. "I've killed so many people, George. So many. More than you probably think. Anyone that stood in my way, I cut them down." Dream wrenched his hand out of his and frantically ran it through his hair. "And I don't even feel remotely guilty about it. What kind of sane person doesn't feel guilty at killing another person?" 

"Dream..." George began. 

"I liked it too," Dream continued. His voice was rapidly becoming more panicked and agitated. "I liked how it feels to be in battle, to be able to fight to the death. I lived to fight, George, to get high off the adrenaline of battle." The blonde turned to him with shattered pleading eyes. "Tell me, George, that's normal. That my need to stay sane with blood is normal." Dream's hands wrapped around himself tightly, folding into himself, as if he would fall apart otherwise. "Tell me!" 

George did the only thing he could think of in a situation like this. He slipped his arms around Dream, just as how he did in the Forest when he found the man curled into himself, deaf to the rest of the world. He put all his desire and want for Dream, not this husk who possessed the man's face, but for Dream, the person who stumbled into his life and pulled him out of cold bitterness of loneliness with his bright smile and warm hands. The man he had fallen for, would fall forever for. The one who promised to stay by his side and had become the one constant light of his universe. The man he loved. "Do you want to know something, Dream?" he whispered against the blonde's hair as the man continue to tremble in his arms. 

When the other man didn't answer, he continued. "Humans have the free will to do anything, to create our own path. Our paths are infinite, because of our immortality. We can never die unless we are killed. And every person born into this world means a new infinite path that stretches forever. But at some point, our paths become confused and tangled, even distorted by our actions. We fight, we hurt, we get lost in the pull of the world. We do things that we later regret. But we always move on, always striving to live. Because remember, the actions we take don't control us. We are defined by ourselves. If you think you're a monster, then that's what you are. Is that what you want, to become a monster?" 

He felt Dream shake his head slightly against his shirt. "Choosing to fight is something we all do, no matter what. The question, what do you choose to fight for? You said you fight to satisfy your own bloodlust, for yourself?" He took a deep breath in his dry throat and went on. "But I don't think that's all you fight for, Dream. From the moment you showed up, I never got that impression from you. When you first stumble here, I saw you about to turn to leave because you didn't want to pull a stranger into your conflict, right?" Dream didn't respond but his shaking stopped. "I can tell you always try to make sure you're the only person hurt, the only person affected. Because you hate to see others get hurt. Isn't that why you tried to fight against the Elites, in the past and even now?"

"Some people really do fight because they don't know any other way to live. They get stronger to enjoy fighting more not caring about who they hurt. But I don't think that's what you fight for, Dream. I think you fight for the same reason I do. We fight to protect what we love," he said, tilting Dream's head up and knocking their foreheads together. "That's why I'm fighting right now. To protect you, the one I love." He leaned in, feeling the warmth of the other man's breath against his skin before their lips met. 

The blonde's hand came to cup his face, gently as his lips moved against George's own. George felt his own hands curled against Dream's chest, the rhythmic heartbeat drumming under his palm. When they pulled away, he could see his Dream back in control. "Thank you, George," he whispered, his head leaning against George's chest. "For being here."

"Always," George replied. "But remember, I can talk all I want but in the end, you're the one that decides who you are and what your path will look like. Don't let my words change that. All I can do is give you what I think. Got it?" Dream nodded wordlessly, not lifting his head. "Good. You should eat something and then try to sleep, okay?" 

"Okay," the other man responded. He followed George through the door and into the kitchen. The rest of the evening was spent in comfortable company and silence, as Dream laughed and smiled as he did before. The same smile that George loved. 

\--------

The sky was dark but the position of the moon showed that dawn was not far behind. Dream slowly pulled himself off the bed, careful to not wake up George who was sleeping on the inside of the bed. He quickly changed into a shirt and jeans as well as the hoodie George made him. His bag was already packed with everything he had brought including everything George had prepared for their trip back to the city. 

Shouldering the bags, he couldn't help but look back at the sleeping figure on the bed. In sleep, George's face was peaceful and relaxed, the kind of sleep that everyone wanted. His head of dark hair was messy in sleep but to Dream, George was beautiful and nothing could change his mind. But some things were too bright and beautiful to hold onto forever. 

He bent over George quietly and kissed the mess of hair gently. The brunette shuffled slightly in the bed from the touch and gave a content sigh. 

He opened the door and without looking back, Dream exited the room and the house, making his way toward the border of the Forest. 

\--------

"Your majesty?" His advisor was kneeling slightly in front of him, an expression of confusion on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

Schlatt swirled the red wine in his glass, looking at it with a mild expression. "I said, let's burn it down. That assassin disappeared into the Enchanted Forest, right? And my soldiers have returned without finding him." 

He looked out the tall window in his throne room, toward the towering expanse of trees he knew where Dream had disappeared into, the moonlight reflecting off his red pupils. A small vicious smile curved his lips. "Assemble the Elytra squad. By tomorrow, the forest will only be ashes scattered to the wind." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Schlatt's joined the game. Shit's about to hit the fan now!  
> Sorry again for the late update. Leave a comment if there's anything you want to say and kudos if you like! Thank you so much!


	10. The Invasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I found out the hard way that ao3 DOES NOT in fact save automatically when my computer crashed and the original copy of this chapter was lost. So here is the new one!  
> Sorry for the late update but hope you enjoy the chapter!

The moon was steadily setting over the horizon and in the east, the sky was lightening from black to gray as Dream made his way through the Forest. His bags bounced on his back with every step, as he determinedly walked to the border. His thoughts and emotions were suppressed by his sheer will and he would not only them to spill over until he went through with his decision. 

The Forest seemed to be lengthening his travel, bending the distance to make the journey longer for him, as if to give him more time to rethink his choices. As he walked, he thought back to the night when he had first come into the Forest. His memories of entering the Forest was unsteady and fuzzy, blurred by his panic and the poison that had coursed through his veins. He remembered falling into the stream and then dragging himself into the treeline. He remembered his own panicked and crazed dash through the Forest before he finally reached George's house. Unconsciously, his hand came up to brush a passing tree. The Forest had welcomed him, protected him, but even more importantly, it had given him the greatest ally and confidant he ever had. George helped him work up the courage to confront his past and stayed him as he fumbled his way out of the overwhelming darkness of his own mind, always ready to pick him back up if he ever fell over. And for that, Dream was grateful. 

After another hour or so of walking, the sky was liberally streaked with the rosy palette of dawn and Dream could see the vast grassy plains through the gaps in the treeline. There was no one around as he slowed to a stop at the edge of the low decline that led to the river that formed the border between the Forest and the plains. But the hunter in Dream told him he was not alone.

"I'm here now," he called out, facing the plains. "You can come out." Behind him, there was a slight shift in the air accompanied by the barest sound of fabric flapping in the wind. Turning around, he saw the single hooded figure standing behind him. For a moment, they simply regarded each other in silence. 

The hooded figure's hand came up to sweep the hood off his head, exposing the bright pink hair and the white eyes of the mask. "You've come," Techno said, his monotone voice not betraying the slightest of emotion. "It's him. Come down," he called over his shoulder, tilting his head up to the towering trees. 

There was a rustle of leaves and five bodies dropped down silently on the grass. Despite his stoic and emotionless facade, Dream couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at how Tommy and even Tubbo was able to learn the technique of minimizing the sound of the movements that he taught them so long ago. He hadn't even noticed their presence in the trees. No matter their appearance or age, the two were also part of the Shadows. And no Shadows would let their presence be known. 

"Are we going back now?" Tommy asked, bounding over. "'Cause I'm really freakin' tired of having to sleep in the dirt." 

"And I'm really freaking tired of having to sleep with you snoring like a ghast going through puberty," Wilbur said. He turned to Techno with a pleading expression. "Please, Techno, tell me we're going back home." 

"Yeah, we are," Techno replied, ruffling Tommy's hair, reminding Dream that they were in fact adopted siblings along with Wilbur. However impassive the pink-haired man seemed, he really did care for his family. Training Tommy and Wilbur mercilessly and taking care of their wounds with a tender hand, the man did all this to compensate for the absence of their father who had been one of the first casualties in the war. _Just more reasons why we do what we have to do_ , Dream thought as he watched Tommy duck away in protest while Wilbur laughed.

"Okay, can we please get going now?" Sapnap interrupted. "We have a three-hour journey to make and I want to get back before noon." 

"Fine, let's go." His friends shouldered the various bags on their back and started the trek down the hill toward the river. But he stood his ground and steeled his resolve. 

Dream looked back past the trees to the small house he had just left hours ago and in his mind, he conjured all the memories he created with George. He saw the brunette's bright smile and all the times the man's arms had curled around him and anchored him to reality. He was right, some things were so bright and beautiful that they lodged in you like a knife. Maybe sometimes, you just had to let them go.

But Dream had never been one to just give up what he wanted, at least not without a fight. 

His mouth opened to utter one word.

"Wait."

\--------

George woke up abruptly, his eyes snapping open. For a moment, he lied there, curled in the sheets, trying to remember what had woken him up. At a first glance, nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. His room still looked the same and the faint sunlight streaming in from the window told him the sun was just rising. Dream wasn't in bed but that didn't surprise him. George knew the blonde was a restless sleeper and woke up either early or in the middle of the night. Speaking of the man, George had a faint recollection of feeling Dream's lips against his forehead, though he couldn't be sure if it was real or just a dream. 

He swung his legs off the bed, feeling the familiar worn wooden floor underneath his feet. Quickly, he swapped his shorts and white shirt for jeans and a clean t-shirt. As he left the room, he paused. The bag he had packed as well as Dream's own was missing. He had left it by the door in preparation for the trip they would make today. _Maybe Dream was waiting for him outside with the bags,_ he told himself. But the nagging feeling of wrongness persisted.

Dream wasn't in the kitchen and only Clay was on the lawn outside, pacing around, snout in the grass. As George watched, his dog gave a pitiful whine as he continued to nose around the grass more urgently. 

"What's wrong, boy?" George kneeled beside the canine, stroking his back to calm him down. "What you're looking at?" He looked down to see what had his dog so agitated and riled up.

The short grass was slightly flattened in the distinct shape of a footprint. If Clay hadn't been nosing around the spot, he wouldn't even have noticed the mark. 

Standing up, George could see more of the same print in the grass. It seemed to originate from the door of his house and lead into the treeline in the direction of the southern border. _Toward the city where Dream came from._

His feet moved without him thinking, walking him past the trees. There was no mistaking it. It was the same direction where Dream had came from just days ago, bloodied and injured. The farther out he went, the more distinct the footprints became. If George had to guess, the prints were probably made about two, maybe three hours ago. He didn't want to believe but against his will, his brain spelled it out for him. 

Dream had left. In the middle of the night with all his stuff and to who knows where. Actually, George could guess where. Back to the city, where he came from. Back to his friends and all that he had left behind. George touched his forehead and he knew then that he hadn't imagined the kiss. A final farewell between two who promised to never leave each other. 

Suddenly, George felt so tired. So tired of everything, the world, and its seemingly endless potential for cruelty. All the strength left his body and he sank to the ground. Clay padded over and nuzzle his snout against George's arm, sensing his distress and trying to comfort him. But right now, the only thing he could feel was the numbness of betrayal and loss. 

When Dream had promised to stay by him forever, he should've kept a seed of doubt in the back of his mind. He should've known better than to trust the concept of "forever." If life had taught him anything, it was that nothing was permanent. He always lived with the fact that everything would come to an end, at least everything that was good and he accepted that. So every time he had lost something, he would always pick himself back up and move on. But this time, he had deluded himself against his better judgment, and now he was paying the price for it.

Cold gripped his body even though he was sitting directly in the sunlight and the numbness in his body disappeared to be replaced by it. The air and blood in his body seemed to be frozen solid and yet he couldn't do anything but sit there in the dirt. There was only one word for this feeling. 

**_Despair_.**

The one emotion he had never allow himself to scumble to had finally overtaken him. Unconsciously, George gripped the necklace that he always wore around his neck, tightly clutching the cross-shaped blemished talisman as he always did when he felt the beginning of hopelessness. He fought to keep his emotions back, to regain his composure, to stop the paralysis that was seeping into his lungs, his heart. His hand shook from his grip and soon, the blunt edges opened a cut on his hand and blood started running down his hand, staining onto the brown earth underneath him. 

Maybe he knew all along that this would happen somewhere in his mind. Maybe, amidst his happiness, there was the tiny doubt that this was too good to be true. But the truth was that, despite all his worries, he had thrown himself into Dream's arms because he really believed that this was the time. The one time where the universe wouldn't deny him this one thing. That Dream really would stay with him forever. But now, all he had left of him were memories that mocked his naivety and the ghost of the man's lips on his forehead. 

_And I didn't even get to say good-bye,_ he thought as his despair consumed him.

\--------

His friends turned to look at him with a curious look. 

"What's wrong, Dream?" Bad asked with a worried expression. "Did you forget something?" 

"Bruh, if you make us wait another two hours before leaving, I will dropkick your ass," Sapnap threatened. 

Dream was silent as he tried to figure how to say his next words. It seemed so easy to decide to stay when he was with George. But now in the presence of his friends, the words caught in his throat. But he also had a promise to keep, not only to George but also to himself. "I'm not going back with you guys."

There was a long silence as his friends digested the words, with mixed expressions. Bad, Tommy, and Tubbo had a predictably confused expression while Sapnap and Wilbur simply seemed stunned. But Techno gave no hint of anything besides the rigidness of his shoulder. 

The pink-haired man walked up the incline until he stood in front of the group, facing Dream. When he spoke, his voice was deadly calm. "I thought I told you if you decide to stay here, then don't bother showing up. So why are you here if you're not coming with us?" 

"To give you this." Dream shrugged off the bag that George had prepared in preparation for their trip later today. "There's food inside and other supplies in case you need them." He dropped the bag at his foot and pulled out his broken mask from one of the pockets in the side of the bag. "And take this." 

"So you're leaving the Shadows," Techno said, still in that deceptively calm voice. "You know what that mask stands for. What it means if you surrender it." Behind him, his friends watched the confrontation in stunned silence. "You're going to abandon the rest of us? You're going to leave and stay here for the rest of your life?" 

"I'm not leaving the Shadows," he replied, matching his friend and rival's voice. "I'm disbanding it." 

That made even Techno pause. "Excuse me?" 

"You heard me." He stepped closer and shoved his mask into the broader man's hands. "I'm disbanding the Shadows. From now on, you're all free to live your lives how you want."

"Wait, wait." Sapnap stepped forward. "This is a joke, right? You're not actually leaving, right? Like, you're not just going to stay and leave us behind?" 

"I'm leaving, Sapnap." He placed a shoulder on his friend's shoulder. "But I'm not going to abandon you."

"What do you mean?" His friend's voice was almost pleading. "Tell us, Dream." 

"I'm going to end this once and for all," he answered, addressing all his friends. "I'm going to kill Schlatt and every one of the Elites tonight, or as long as it takes. Then we'll be free from them. The Shadows don't need to exist anymore if we win, right?"

"That is such utter bullshit." For the first time, a tone of anger entered Techno's voice. "You think you can just say you'll free us and expect us to think, oh wow, Dream says he's going to free us so let's believe him. I'm sure nothing will go wrong like last time. Cut the crap, Dream." 

"Look, I'm going to do this anyway, one way or another," Dream said, impatiently. "You can't stop me."

"Stop you from what? Trying to commit suicide?" Techno snapped. "Going on this impossible mission just so you can stay here with your little boyfriend without any guilty consciences? Tell me that's not why you're doing this." 

"Fine, you want the truth?" He stepped closer until he was staring right into the eyes of Techno's mask. "The truth is I'm sick of living like this. Living every day wondering who's not going to come back from their mission. And I know the rest of you are as well." He continued, his anger and weariness leaking into his voice. "So I will end it. End the source of all this and before anyone else is going to get hurt. Call me selfish, call me arrogant, but I'm tired of this stupid game we've been playing with Schlatt."

"And after?" Techno asked. "Say you've killed Schlatt and every one of the Elites, then what? You're just going to settle down here for the rest of your life? Have you already forgotten what I've told you? That you'll never be satisfied with a life like that?"

"I remember," Dream replied. "But I think I could be."

Techno snorted and opened his mouth to say more but Sapnap cut him off. 

"Dream, look me in the eyes." Dream looked over into his friend's dark pupils. "Is this what you want? To stay and live here?" 

"Yes," he replied. At his friend's gentle tone, he said the truth. "Sapnap, I love him. And I promised I would stay. But I can't do that if I know you're all still out there risking your lives."

"That's all you need to say, Dream." The brunette clapped his shoulder and gripped it. "I'll meet you at the southern gate at nightfall tonight, then."

"Wait, what?" he said, thrown by what Sapnap had said. 

"You think I'm going to let you go off alone?" Sapnap asked, incredulously. "Fat chance. I'm your friend and I'm coming with you." He held up a hand when Dream opened his mouth to protest. "Don't even try to argue. I can't stop you and you can't stop me. If you try to argue, then you're insulting both our friendship and my strength." 

"And don't forget the rest of us." Bad, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo stepped forward from behind Techno. "We're coming too." 

"How about you?" Sapnap turned to Techno. "Are you going to ditch the rest of us?"

"Fine, I'm coming but only because Wilbur and Tommy are going. I swear to god if you two get killed, I will bring you back from the dead and kill you again," the pink-haired man said. "And we're not done yet, Dream," he said, pointing at him.

"Guys, no," he protested, trying to catch up with how fast things were moving. "This is my mission, none of you are coming with me."

"Correction, this is our mission, and we are coming with you because this is what we signed up for," Wilbur said. "What do you think we signed up for? To take down Schlatt. So yeah, we're coming and as Sapnap said, you can't stop us." 

As he tried to think of something to protest further, there was a faint whistling sound from the plains. Looking over the plains, nothing seemed to be wrong but the whistling sound, several of it, was definitely growing louder and louder. 

"What the hell is that?" Tommy shouted, head whipping around to find the source of the sound. "It sounds like fireworks!" 

On the horizon, about twenty figures zoomed through the sky at an alarming speed. Speechless, the group watched the figures fly over them and then loop around over them. Alarm bells went off in Dream's head and as the figures got closer, he saw the glint of crossbows in some of the fliers' hands. 

"Get down!" he yelled, pushing Sapnap and Bad down the hill, as they gaped at the sky. Beside him, he could see Techno do the same to his siblings and Tubbo. As the group rolled down the steep incline, there was a much closer sound of what was undoubtedly fireworks firing, and seconds later, the hilltop where they had been standing, erupted in an explosion of purple and red sparkles. 

For a moment, all Dream could hear was a faint ringing, the sound bouncing around in his skull as smoke drifted down the hill. Quickly, he assessed the damage and was relieved to find nothing was broken or injured too severely. His friends were stirring nearby and they didn't seem to have suffered more than a few scrapes. 

His hearing was coming back slowly and with it, the sound of distant laughter reached his ears. "Well, what the hell is this?" a sickeningly familiar voice rang out. Through the dispersing dust, Schlatt was standing on the edge of the hill. Several others also stood nearby while overhead the remainder of the fliers glided around. "I didn't expect to find you so easily!"

"Why is he here?" Tubbo whispered, staring up at the figure, his grip tight around his sword hilt. "Why is the leader of the Elites here?" '

"I don't know." Dream felt sick. There could only be one reason why Schlatt was here and that was to come for him. If George got dragged into this... 

Above them, Schlatt was grinning down upon them and still talking. "You know, when I got here, I was going to burn down this entire forest to find you, the notorious Dream, and end your reign of terror upon my country. But here you are, standing in the open with the rest of your little vigilante group like an idiot! Did you think I would just give up?"

"You show up with twenty soldiers to fight a single person? How cowardly are you?" Dream yelled back up. The familiar rage was bubbling up inside of him at the sight of the horned man, the very instigator of their oppression. But he had to focus on keeping the fight away from the Forest before George got caught in the crossfire. Silently, he hoped the brunette wouldn't decide to come to investigate the explosions. 

"You can't be too sure when exterminating vermin." The smile was still plastered on Schlatt's face but it twisted into a demonic smirk. "I really thought you would die that night but you managed to escape yet again. How did you do it, anyway? There's no way you got away on your own. Who helped you?" A gloved finger came to rest thoughtfully on his chin. "Was it possibly...let's say, the Hermit of this place?"

Dream's stomach froze and his heart skipped several beats. His dread and surprise must be visible on his face because Schlatt laughed. "You thought I wouldn't know about your little friend? My soldiers found him before and he lied to them. And no one lies to my soldiers or me without receiving retribution." 

"If you touch George, I swear to god, I'll kill you so slowly you wished you've never met me," Dream hissed. His rage was searing inside his body and he could feel the beginning of the red haze of anger at the edge of his vision. He took a step up the hill, determined to mangle the leering horned man above him, but several crossbows were instantly engaged and point straight at him.

"You know, I just had a great idea," Shclatt continued, unconcerned. "I was originally just going to burn down the forest and smoke you out but that'll be boring with you already here. So let's play a little game." The gray cape he was wearing suddenly flared up, revealing itself to be a pair of wings. "I'm going to find where your little friend is and I'll wait for you there. Will you be able to save him before he dies?"

Schlatt leaped off the edge and the wings yanked him into the air, firework sparkles trailing in his path. His guards followed, their wings also engaging. "You can run or you can fight through all my men to get there. The choice is up to you." He gave a small salute and a last sneer before he flew off toward the Forest, only the sparkles and his threat hanging in the air. 

\---------

George was sitting at his kitchen table when he heard the distant sound of explosions penetrate the cloud in his mind. He looked up from the wood and waited for the sound to continue. When nothing more happened, his gaze slipped back to the table. 

He knew he should go investigate that sound but he couldn't find the energy too. Ever since that brief panic attack on the dirt, he had been sitting in his house, unable to find the energy to do anything and just looking at his kitchen table without really seeing it. Finally, though, after a minute, he stood up slowly and retrieved his bow and arrows, as well as his sword. He was still the Hermit and protector of this Forest and he would still do his duty, no matter what. 

The sound had seemed to come from the southern side of the Forest. _The same way Dream had gone_ , he thought, feeling another dull twist of the knife in his heart as he walked in that direction. Clay had bound along with him and stuck to his side loyally. Absently, he stroke his dog's neck and tried to find some semblance of peace again. It was going to be okay, he told himself. I'll eventually put this all behind me and move on. It was a nice thought but he knew that this would be one wound time would never heal fully. 

A piercing, shrieking sound reached his ears and he looked up curiously. The sound was definitely real and definitely getting louder now. Overhead, several dark shapes streaked by, one after the another at a blistering speed but George's attention was no longer focused on the mysterious flying figures. Rather it was on the bright glowing orbs falling down over the Forest. 

It would be hard to ignore the blue fireballs raining from the sky. 

\--------

"George!" Dream yelled. He was clambering up the hill and in his desperation, he slipped on the loose gravel as he tried to find a grip to pull himself up. All he knew was that he had to get back as fast as possible, fast enough to warn George, who was unaware that enemies were coming straight at him. He absolutely would not allow anything to happen to George and when he reached the hilltop, he sprinted immediately into the treeline. 

He felt a presence at his side, and when he turned his head, he could see Sapnap and Techno beside him. Behind him, the rest of his friends were following without hesitation. "Guys..."

"Don't argue," Techno snapped. "We're coming with you too." Even after the argument they just had, the man was still willing to fight and risk his life for him. The thought was comforting. " Save your breath for running."

So Dream did just that and increased his speed. Trees and foliage flashed by him and he could feel the hard-packed dirt underneath him, vibrating with the weight of rapid footsteps. 

_Hang on, George,_ his mind though frantically as he ran, _I'm coming._

\--------

The grass lawn was burning blue as Schlatt landed in the middle of the clearing. Cinders and sparks were popping from the patches of flame and the thin pillars of smoke joined the ones coming from the flames that his soldiers had dropped amongst the trees. 

The house was unscathed by the flames exactly as he had instructed his soldiers. While it would be rather logical to simply toast the house along with Dream's friend inside of it, he wanted to see the despair on the man's face when he saw the sword at his friend's throat. But first, Schlatt had to capture said friend first. 

"Search the house," he ordered as his soldiers walked toward the building. As one of his men reached out toward the door, the deep-thrum of a bowstring rang out and the man collapsed with a surprised cry, as the arrow protruded from his neck. 

Schlatt whipped his head to the direction of where the arrow came from and saw a man perched in the branches. Ignoring the yelling and the faint gurgling screams from the doomed soldier, he called. "Well, hi there! That's a rather rude way to greet some guests!" 

"Usually, my guests don't come here and try to set my home on fire," the man answered back. "I'm not in the mood for jokes right now so just say it simply. Who are you?" 

"Aren't you one ignorant peasant? My name is Schlatt, or more commonly known as King Schlatt, ruler of the city and leader of the Elites," he said, with a bow, though not taking his eyes off the man. 

"Leader of the Elites?" The man's tone sharpened. "Leader of oppressors?"

"I like to think we're more like nobles, doing our duty to protect the occupants of the city." He gave an innocent shrug and smiled. "The world's a dangerous place, you know, and not many people can handle it." 

Another arrow came streaking over toward Schlatt, catching his hair as it flew past him. A trickle of blood ran down from the shallow cut on his face and dripped onto the grass underneath him. 

"I don't particularly care about your delusions but I know what you've done. You terrorized hundreds of people and enslaved them. You've come here and tried to burn down the place I'm protecting." The man stood up, slinging his bow over his shoulder, and drew his sword. "Draw your sword. You will now pay the price of your tyranny. Don't think for a moment any of you are leaving here alive." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always leave a comment on your reaction or anything and kudos if you like!


	11. The Final Stand

George stared definitely into the red eyes of the horned leader who called himself Schlatt. His emotions had stopped swirling around in him and had settled down into a calm and undisturbed surface as it always did before battles. His grip was steady and the blade never so much as wavered. Now wasn’t the time to be George. Now, it was time to be the Hermit. 

“I pay the price? Me?” Schlatt stepped forward, his smile still present on his face twisted in amusement. The other six soldiers that had accompanied him stood by, their hands clutching their weapons. “Me, the king, pay the price?” As he walked closer, his hand came up and gave a small wave over his shoulder. The soldier standing closest to the man unsheathed his sword and jumped up into the air. A firework ignited with a deafening shrill whistle and the soldier accelerated straight at George, wings flaring out behind him.

George jumped aside quickly on the thick branch, feeling the nick of the soldier’s sword against his skin. By reflex, his own blade came sweeping in retaliation and he felt it connect against his assailant’s body, cutting fabric and skin before encountering thin air. 

The soldier quickly jumped back onto another branch, the shallow cut on his ribs spilling blood onto the wood underneath him. 

His own cut was weeping blood, trickling down George’s arm. He barely felt the pain over his pounding heart. He had barely been able to react to the speed of the man’s acceleration and the only reason his organs were still in his body was because of his instincts. 

An arrow thudded into the wood by his foot, inches from impaling his calf. Unable to help it, he turned away from his opponent and looked back at the rest of the invaders on the ground. Several more soldiers were drawing back crossbows and the rest were wielding either swords or some sort of three-pronged spear. If all of them were able to go just as fast… 

His legs moved automatically and he jumped from his branch to another branch, away from the intruders and deeper into the Forest. Behind him, he could hear Schlatt laughing as more fireworks ignited and he would feel the rest of the soldiers pursuing him. 

“Not feeling so cocky now, are you?” the man called after him, his taunting voice following him, as George ran. “Let this be a lesson to you, peasant! Those that stand on the top are never the ones to pay!”

\--------

The sky was darkening as Dream and his squad ran through the Forest, the horizon showing the black clouds swollen with rain. The trees and foliage crackled as the mysterious blue fire raged, filling the air with the scent of burning wood and thick smoke. Under other circumstances, Dream would have stopped and tried to stop the conflagration. But now, all he could think about was getting to George as fast as he could. 

In front of them, three soldiers were grouped on the ground, obviously waiting for them. Dream didn't slow down at all and he was preparing himself to simply cut them down when a familiar whistling sound reached his ears from above them. He glanced up quickly just in time to see the streaking firework racing toward them, realizing they were about to be blown to pieces. “Incoming!” he yelled, as he dove to the side. The rocket blew a miniature crater in the ground, throwing dust and sparkles over them. Dream scrambled to his feet, his ax already raised to defend himself. He could see their attacker high above them on a branch, already reloading the crossbow until he suddenly gasped and fell out of the tree, hitting the ground with an ominous thud. It wasn’t until Dream saw the arrow protruding from the man’s chest that he understood. 

“Keep going!” Sapnap yelled another arrow notched to his bow already. "I'll take care of any snipers in the trees. Focus on the ones on the ground!" 

Dream took off without hesitation. But before he could get farther than a few feet, an arrow slammed into the hard-packed dirt in front of him, quivering in the dirt. More soldiers dropped down from the trees joining the ones already at the ground. Their swords flashed from their sheathes and Dream's own ax came up to parry the sword from the closest soldier. Beside him, he could hear several shrieks of metal against metal and he knew someone, most likely Techno had his back. With the reassurance that someone was watching his back, he threw himself at his opponent, trying to dispatch him as fast as possible.

His bubbling panic and anger were roiling in his body and straining to come out, giving his ax swings more strength and brutality. The soldier could barely get his sword up in time before it was knocked to the side. In a desperate move, the man lunged forward, his sword coming to cut him in half. Dream easily swept out the man's leg and as the soldier fell toward the ground, his ax sliced the man's throat open. 

Blood splattered across the grass, staining it a dark crimson red. For a moment, he paused, staring at the sight of the ghastly wound smiling up at him until the sound of yells and clashing weapons brought him back and he quickly joined in the fray, aware that his friends were risking their lives to help him. _The human feelings would come later_ , he told himself as his ax met metal and flesh alike. The coppery scent of blood filled the air, a scent he was used to. The clouds that had looked so distant was now over them, blanketing the world in semi-darkness. Dream could feel raindrops splashing against him and the ground was soon slippery with the mixture of rain and blood. _After this is over._

_After I save George._

_\--------_

The rain was coming steadily down on George as he jumped from branch to branch. The wood was getting slippery and more dangerous to navigate but he couldn't slow down. Behind him, the yells of the soldiers were coming closer, simply gliding to toy with him until he couldn't run anymore. Which would be pretty soon as George felt the ache in his legs intensify and his breath coming up short from how fast he was going

There was another ugly smack of a crossbow firing behind him and George instinctively twisted his body to avoid the bolt as he jumped. The arrow narrowly missed him but the movement stole his speed and he fell short of the branch he was going for, sending him spiraling toward the ground. Quickly, he curled his body in and rolled when he hit the dirt, stealing most of the force of the impact. 

"He's on the ground!" A single soldier burst from the tree and landed on a low branch high above George. If his bow wasn't lying somewhere on the forest floor way back, he would've shot the soldier out of the tree right then and there. Instead, George could only turn and try to run.

"You're not getting away anymore!" The soldier jumped off from his branch and rushed George, his wings fanning out behind him as his sword was raised. Instead of trying to dodge the man, though, George spun around and took a step to the side, barely avoiding the blade. Simalatelousy, his own sword was coming up in a slash toward, the man's neck. He felt the blade slice through the vulnerable flesh in the throat before clanging against the corpse's spine. 

The body of the soldier flew by him, blood pouring out of the cut in thick swaths. The sword fell from its nerveless fingers and quickly, George picked it up, ignoring the pain from the cut in his shoulder. Above, the remaining soldiers burst out of the trees, and without hesitation, they dove toward him, though without the same neck-breaking speed as the previous soldier. 

George’s dual swords lashed out, whipping around precisely at anyone that came too close. The soldiers who were closest to him, immediately veered upwards, out of the range of his swords, and landed on the branches, their shallow wounds dripping fluid.

For a moment, the two sides sized the other up, assessing their chances. George was breathing rapidly, feeling the damp rain against him and the still-warm blood of the man he had killed against his arm and face. There were now only five opponents facing him, not counting Schlatt. The odds still weren’t in his favor, considering their mobility and their ranged capacity. But there was no way in hell he was giving up. He’ll fight to his last breath, with all the strength he had left. 

Another figure burst out of the trees and landed agilely on one of the branches. “Well, looks like you’ve reached the end of your rope,” Schlatt remarked, face split in that hated smirk. “You’re surrounded and there’s nowhere to run now. There’s no need for anymore senseless struggling, you know. You can surrender voluntarily.” 

“Like hell, I will,” George snapped, glaring up at his surrounding enemies. He crouched into a defensive position, his own sword, and salvaged one, weaving through the air. His anger coursed through him and his veins were burning with adrenaline, his muscles tense and coiled in preparation. “I’ll die before surrendering.” 

The horned man gave a dramatic sigh and shrug. “Why are you peasants so difficult to reason with?” His cold red eyes looked right into George’s. “To the bitter end, it is then.” 

The stationary soldiers burst into action, charging toward George. His swords swept out to meet them again, determined to smash the arrogance of his invaders and to make his final stand. 

\--------

“Do you hear that?” Sapnap yelled over the deafening crackle of the fire as they continued running. The soldiers that had been fighting had retreated quickly when they realized that they were outmatched, leaving behind eight corpses. Their wings left Dream and his squad in the dust but he wasn’t interested in pursuing them. The fire was spreading quickly now, the rain seeming to not affect it, and the smoke was becoming denser and denser. 

“Hear what?” Dream shouted back, not slowing down in the slightest. He couldn’t hear anything besides the sounds of their footsteps and the fire. 

“It sounds like a dog barking,” Sapnap replied, his head cocked to the side. “From in front of us.”

Dream strained his ears and after a few seconds, he picked up the sound of barking as well. It was rapidly getting closer and closer as they ran. The yelps sounded familiar and he had a bad feeling that he knew what it was.

The hole popped up out of nowhere and Dream almost fell into the pit. He dug his toes in and tried desperately to prevent himself from falling. But his momentum overcame his efforts and he felt himself tipping over.

A hand grabbed the back of his hoodie and hauled him back into a more balanced position. “You good?” Techno asked, his hand still curled in Dream’s clothes. 

“Yea,” he replied, trying to control his pounding heart. “What was that?” 

“What the hell? There’s a dog in here!” Tommy yelled as he bent down to examine the hole. “Why is there just this hole with a dog inside of it?” 

“Don’t just stand there like an idiot!” Wilbur replied. He jumped into the shallow pit. “Get it out!” 

The animal was raised out of the pit and almost bolted if Bad hadn't grabbed it by the collar it had on. "Woah, calm down, you muffin-head!" Bad yelled, straining against the massive dog's strength. Dream's heart dropped as he recognized the barking canine.

"Clay?" He rushed over and quickly kneeled down next to the dog. "Why are you here?" A note of panic crept into his voice and in the back of his mind, he realized he was basically trying to extract information from an animal. "Where's George?" 

"This is his dog?" Sapnap asked. His bow was still out and sweeping the area around them, alert for any enemies. "George's?"

Dream nodded in response, trying to stay calm at what the implication of this meant. His friend was silent for a moment and when he turned to look at Sapnap and Techno, the expressions on their faces grim. 

"We should keep going," Techno said finally. "Tommy, Wilbur, and Tubbo, you three stay here with the dog and make sure he doesn't run off." The trio didn't look happy about being left behind, but they knew better to argue with Techno in the middle of a battle. 

Tommy came forward and squeezed the broad man's shoulders. "Stay safe, okay Techno?" he said, quietly but fiercely. 

"Always." The pink-haired man ruffled the boy's hair and this time, the blonde didn't pull away. "Who do you think I am anyway? Technoblade never dies, remember?"

"Of course," Tommy replied, rolling his eyes. Techno gave a grin and pulled away. Without saying anything, the remainder of their squad, Dream, Techno, Sapnap, and Bad fell back into pace again, running as fast as they could. Dream's breath was coming up short but not from the exertion. Panic was bubbling in his body, a sensation he had rarely felt before. He felt as if any second his mind would explode from the worries and worst scenarios racing through it.

 _Stop_ _it,_ he told himself. George wasn't weak. In fact, he was one of the strongest people he knew. The brunette would survive until Dream got there. Desperately, he clung to that hope as he ran. 

\-------

George was panting heavily, his swords raised unsteadily. Several more cuts had joined the ones he already had and a long burn from a firework explosion up his forearm. But around him, three more bodies had joined the pile, inanimate and very much dead. But at the rate things were going, he would be joining them pretty soon.

The soldier holding the trident jumped up again, his wings giving him a few extra feet of height above the treetop. He raised the shimmering, glowing weapon and George prepared himself for the incoming attack. 

The trident streaked down at a blistering speed, the soldier still holding it as it crashed down with an explosion of dirt and dust. George lept aside, but not before the sharp point tore a gash in the side of his ankle. Trying to suppress the pain, he lashed out a sword toward the man's side. His movement, though, dulled from pain and blood loss, was slower than before and the soldier was able to dodge away and escape to a high off branch. 

"Is that all you've got left?" Schlatt drawled in a bored tone from the branch he was sitting on. "After all your defiance, is this all it amounts to?" 

George would've loved to snap back at the condescending man but his brain was moving sluggishly and darkness was starting to creep into the edge of his vision. 

At his silence, the man shook his head. "What a disappointment." He stood up from his branch and tilted his head to the side. "I think it's time to get ready for the finale of this show. And it sounds like reinforcements are coming." The Forest was suddenly filled with more sounds of wings and six more soldiers landed on the trees, bloodied and holding their weapons.

"I'm sorry, your majesty," one of the soldiers said, bowing as best as we could, perched upon the branches. "We failed to keep the Shadows away and had to retreat." _What was he talking about?_ George thought dully as he tried to force down the sinking feeling in his chest at the appearance of six more adversaries. _The Shadows?_

"It's perfectly fine," Schlatt replied, hopping down from his branch onto the ground. "The more people in the audience for the finale, the better." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" George demanded, his swords raised higher at the proximity of the man. "What games are you trying to play?"

"It wouldn't be any fun if I just told you, would it?" Schlatt replied, advancing leisurely. "But forget about that." He stopped a couple of yards away from George and raised his arms in what looked like a benevolent manner. "However disappointing you were in the end, I admire your spirit, to put it generously. You fought hard and managed to kill five of my elite soldiers single-handily. A feat like that certainly warrants a reward." He unsheathed his sword and pointed it straight at George. "So I give you the pleasure of dueling a king, one on one. A once in a lifetime opportunity, really." 

George didn't hesitate. He immediately rushed forward, his body squeezing out the last of his energy, promising himself that at the very least, he would take this man's head before he died. His sword was already coming in to sever the man's smiling face from his neck when he heard the strings of several crossbows snap forward and three arrows sink into his legs and back. 

His interrupted lunge sent him sprawling at the feet of his target. At first, his dulled brain was trying to figure out what happened and why he was suddenly on the ground. The pain in his lower back, right thigh, and left calf flared up and he realized he had been shot. 

Schlatt kneeled down next to him and out of his fading vision, George could see the man's sneering face. "Did you really think you could cross swords with me? A simple peasant like you?" the man said in amusement. "I can't tell if you're simply arrogant or naive." 

"Cowardly bastard," George spat out through gritted teeth, the simple action racking his body with pain. 

The man's leet only grew wider. "Honor and heroism have no place on the battlefield, you innocent simple child. What matters is simply surviving, by any means. And not by using brute strength." He reached out and tapped George's head lightly. " I can find brute force anywhere and anytime I want. What's the point in making myself physically stronger? The most important strength a man can enhance is his mind, which is why I'm still standing and you're at my feet right now. Remember that for the brief remainder of your life." He stood up and brushed off non-existent stains on his pants. "And soon, your friends will learn the same lesson. Bring him back to the house"

Desperately, George wanted to ask again what the man was talking about. Hardly anyone knew he existed. He had no friends. But his mouth wouldn't cooperate and the encroaching darkness was now upon him.

The last thing George saw before he went under was the gleeful red eyes of a tyrant.

\--------

Dream burst through the tree lines into the familiar clearing. The rain had continued steadily overhead and through it, he frantically scanned the surrounding for any sign of a struggle. 

"Welcome!" Schlatt's voice rang out and Dream's head snapped up to see the man standing on the roof of the house. Behind him, there was a slight outline of a figure but both Schlatt's body and the rain covered it. "Welcome members of the cast! We can now start the beginning of the final act of this wonderful battle." He stepped aside to reveal the figure behind him with a smirk. Dream's body seized up with dread when he realized who it was. "Or should I say the conclusion of the final act?"

It was George. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, leave a comment if you want to say anything, and kudos if you like!


	12. The Blaze

A red haze of madness clouded Dream’s vision. Through the roar of blood in his ears, he could hear the sound of a person yelling. Dimly, he realized that the sound was coming from him, a primal sound of shock and rage. Unconsciously, his body was moving forward, his legs flying forward with a burst of strength. He slipped through the hands that reached out to hold him back from his reckless charge, only thinking of reaching the prone figure lying on the roof. 

“Oh no, I don’t think so.” Schlatt leisurely unsheathed his sword, and with a smooth flick of his wrist, held the blade against George’s neck. Dream’s body came to a screeching halt, sliding in the wet grass. “I don’t think I need to tell you what happens if you take another step forward.”

For a moment, the two opposing sides were still, neither making a move. Dream’s breath was swirling in his lungs, unable to get back his constricted throat. His vision tunneled on the gleaming blade at the brunette’s throat and he had to use every bit of his willpower to keep himself from moving. 

“That’s better.” From Dream’s left and right, there was the sound of several crossbow strings being pulled back. He turned his heads quickly and in the trees, he could barely make out through the rain, the silhouettes of the remaining soldiers that had survived as well as the blunt crossbows pointed at him. 

“This is just as a precaution in case you try anything stupid,” Schlatt said, lowering his sword until it was pointed at the ground. “I want to have a civilized conversation with you and I can’t be doing that while holding a sword to your friend’s throat. But then again, the moment I let my guard down, you’ll just try to kill me.” He spread his arms in an innocent gesture. “So this is the compromise. Lower your weapons, Shadows.” 

“Like hell, we will,” Sapnap snapped, walking forward, his bow tight in his hands. “The second we drop our weapons, you’ll just kill us where we stand. Don’t think we’re that stupid, you conceited piece of shit.” 

The horned man sighed and he gave a small wave of his hand. Immediately, there was the ugly crack of a crossbow and Sapnap’s gasp of pain. Dream spun around quickly, his heart in his throat. Behind him, Sapnap was slumped on the ground, an arrow in the side of his arm. 

“Sapnap!” He kneeled next to his friend, examining the wound. Thankfully, while the arrow was embedded deeply in the brunette’s bicep. It hadn’t hit an artery or anything life-threatening. 

“I’m fine,” Sapnap said through clenched teeth. Sweat beaded his forehead as his face paled in pain. “Don’t let your guard down.” 

“Now, do you understand?” Schlatt called in a bored tone. “You have no leverage to command me with. You have two choices, stand down or you die. It’s that simple.” 

Dream hesitated, his grip still tight on his ax. As if reading his mind, the ominous sound of a crossbow reloading sounded out to his side. His hand clenched for a brief moment before releasing the ax in it. Behind him, Techno and Bad were also sheathing their swords, though neither looked happy about it. Techno’s canines were bared and he could practically feel the rage radiating off the man. 

“That’s better.” Schlatt sat down on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the side while his hands were clasped in front of him. Beside him, Dream could make out the long shafts of arrows that stuck out of George’s body and he had to suppress another wave of fury. “Don’t worry, your friend’s not dead yet. He has, oh I don’t know, another couple of hours or so before he dies of blood loss. But that can change, depending on your actions.” 

“What do you mean?” Dream called up. Despite himself, his heart jumped with the suggestion that he could save George. 

“I’m saying, you can save your friend here,” Schlatt said slowly as if he was explaining something to a child. “But only if you cooperate.” 

“What do you want?” Beneath the hand on Sapnap’s shoulder, Dream could feel the slight trembling of his friend’s body. 

“To talk.” Schlatt’s red eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness. “You interest me, to say the least. You, a nameless face among hundreds, managed to slaughter much of the Elites and earn a reputation. You Shadows have become, in the eyes of the populace, a rebellious element that dares to defy the system. And for that, I thank you.” 

“What?” Dream’s surprise and shock were mirrored on the faces of his friends.

“You’ve made what would normally be a boring dull conquest into an interesting struggle. If there’s anything I hate more than people who don’t know their places, it’s a tedious story,” Schlatt said, a fanatical and unstable gleam in his eyes.

“You’re sick.” Dream could feel nausea mixing with the anger in his stomach. All the death and destruction this man had caused was simply to amuse him, to keep him entertained while he watched from his position at the top. “This is why you’ve done all this? All this carnage and suffering?” 

“Oh no, no, no,” Schlatt replied, lazily wagging a finger. “There is a greater purpose to all of this, hard as it is to believe than simply to keep me satisfied. It’s to keep humanity safe from the threats that are out there.” At the confused expressions, he continued. “You think, with your meager knowledge of this vast world, that you understand the dangers outside the borders I’ve erected? Do you know the places I had to go get all this equipment?” He gestured to the wings on his back. “Outside those borders, monsters crawl in droves. And even further, in other dimensions, the danger is even more present.”

“Do you know how much lives have been sacrificed to get these Elytras, the wings that allow us to fly? I left with a hundred soldiers into another dimension where it’s just chunks of islands above an endless void, guarded by a dragon and hundreds upon hundreds of Endermans. These twenty men that came with me today are all that remains of that army. If I release humanity into the wilds as it is now, they’ll all immediately break off into smaller groups, easy to pick off by the constant hordes of monsters. So, tell me, do you think humans would be able to survive if I didn’t do what I did?” Schlatt leaned forward, his eyes expectant at their response to his speech. 

“So to save mankind, you seize power and oppress the people you’re trying to protect?” Dream demanded. “You control the flow of resources and restrict the rights of people. You mercilessly slaughtered innocent people in your succession to the position you are in today. Is that how you justify the blood on your hands, by claiming you are the savior?” He stood up from the ground and glared back into those red pupils. “Is that what your cohorts, the Elites believe as well?” 

“Every king needs advisors,” Schlatt replied, his grin widening. “The Elites are simply people who chose the right side and decided to go with the inevitable path of the future rather than fighting it like you fools. As for those accusations.” The man tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “I deserve a little fun after all the efforts I’ve made. In return, for protecting the people, their lives belong to me.” 

“You’re wrong,” Dream snapped, stepping forward. “Our lives do not belong to you. Saving someone doesn’t give you the right to their life. How did you even manage to delude yourself into thinking that idea was justifiable?” Without waiting for a response, he pressed forward. “And people are not as weak as you think they are. We lived perfectly fine before you came along and we’ll continue to do so. Humanity will adapt as it needs to.” He pointed up at Schlatt accusingly. “You think you can decide everything you want and expect people to comply? You call us fools, but the only foolish one here is you. And I do not bow down to fools.” 

For a long moment, there was only silence. Schlatt just stood there, staring down at them, though his expression never changed from that smirk. Finally, he replied, “Well, that’s quite a passionate answer. But, I don’t think you’re right. Not that it matters anymore ‘cause you’re all going to die right now."

Beside Dream, Technoś body tensed and his hand flashed to the hilt of his sword. Schlatt's smirk widened at the shock on their faces. "What, you think after all the trouble you've caused me I would let any of you get away? Oh, sure you've entertained me and all but, to be honest, it's starting to get tedious. You guys kill my allies, I kill you if I catch you, the same thing over and over again. Every story has an ending, a conclusion to wrap everything together." The treetops rustled and soldiers drop down one after another. "Besides, if you all die here, the Shadows lose all their core members. I can easily crush it and no one will dare to rise against me again." He placed a boot on George's prone figure. "And I think I'll start with this one." 

Faster than he had ever moved in his life, Dream's ax flew into his hand and he was running flat-out toward the house. On his side, he could hear the acceleration of the soldiers as they moved to intercept him. He twisted his body, dodging a sword and he threw the heavy weapon up toward the silhouette on the roof. 

Schlatt turned his body just enough to avoid the weapon from burying in his chest. Dream saw the man turn back toward him, blood dripping from a thin cut that streaked from his jaw to his cheekbone. For the first time, the man's face wasn't amused or smiling. Instead, his teeth were bared in a snarl and his red eyes glittered murderously. "Oh, you're so going to regret that." 

Dream felt intruding hands on his arms and he lashed out with his fists with a growl, determined to live until he could save George. His hands smashed against bone and jaws and for a wild moment, he thought that he would be able to win as the soldiers retreated from his range until he felt the blade of a sword open a long jagged cut on his back. 

He toppled forward, his body giving out against the splattering of blood from his wound. Immediately, hands pressed down on his arms and legs, immobilizing him, pressing his face into the damp grass and mud. Behind him, he couldn’t hear the sound of a struggle and he wanted to call out to see if his friends were okay but his mouths wouldn’t cooperate. 

“I was going to give all of you a quick clean death if possible,” Schlatt’s voice rang out above him. “But now, I don’t feel quite as merciful.”

A pair of boots landed on the ground in front of Dream and he looked to see Schlatt looking down on him. In his hands was an flint and steel along with an unlit torch. With a flick of the steel, the torch burst into flames, though it wasn’t a normal red and orange flickering fire. Instead, it was a burning cobalt blue, and Dream swore he could see the dancing image of a howling face in those flames. 

“This is soul fire,” Schlatt said, waving the torch around carelessly. “Made from the ignition of soul sand that you could find pretty much in the Nether. Much more powerful than regular fire and much harder to extinguish. By the time the sun sets, the flames that are consuming this forest will reduce everything to ashes.” 

A pair of soldiers flew down with a familiar figure between them. Up closer, George looked even worse, his face slashed and blood staining his shirt. His arms and legs were covered with wounds and his head drooped like a puppet that had its strings severed. The soldiers carried the inanimate brunette into the house and came back seconds after without him.

“What are you doing?” Dream asked, his voice distorted and quiet. He didn’t know what was going to happen but a feeling of dread was growing in him. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m teaching you a lesson in respect and etiquette toward those who are clearly more powerful. Futile struggling annoys me and leads to needless suffering.” Schlatt gave him one last look of disappointment and anger before turning away. “Learn the price of disobedience and remember it in your next life.” And with a defiant flick of his wrist, the horned man tossed the blazing torch through a window into the interior of the house. 

A scream tore itself out of Dream, audible even over the shattering of glass, and he strained against the bodies pinning his arm. His body protested at the movement, his wound gushing more blood, but he could only think about reaching that torch before it consumed everything inside the house. “STOP! LET ME GO!” The first traces of smoke leaked out from the broken window and he could see the flickering of blue flames that were growing brighter as he watched. “GEORGE!” 

But no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t move any closer and his body started shutting down as more and more blood leaked out of him. Darkness was creeping into the edge of his vision and he could only let out a howl of grief and despair before he sank under the black waves. 

\--------

George felt weightless, drifting in an infinite sea of darkness. He felt nothing, not pain, not even the sensation of air against his skin. 

In the distance, a blue light bloomed in the darkness, forcing him to shut his eyes against its brightness. The light washed over him and he felt heat against his body, growing stronger and stronger until he was screaming silently in protest against the pain, sure he was about to burst into flames.

All of a sudden, the blue brilliance that was glaring right into his eyes, despite him shutting them, was gone and his nerves were no longer screaming with pain. Cautiously, he lowered the arms that he had lifted in a futile attempt to protect himself. The blue light that had replaced the darkness was gone and in its place was a familiar sight. 

The spirit of the Forest stood in front of him, the enormous tree radiating a comfortable muted yellow light that kept the darkness at bay without erasing it completely. However, it had changed. The leaves and branches were no longer solid and unblemished. Scars of blue pulsed in places and as George watched, more of the glowing wood was burned away, replaced with a flickering blue flame. 

"Hello?" he called out nervously. He wasn't sure what was happening right now and the continued changing of his strange situation wasn't helping at all.

 _Welcome, George._ The spirit said in his head, the familiar voice grim. _We need to talk and neither of us has much time left._

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end, probably another couple of chapters!  
> As always leave a comment if you want to say anything and kudos if you like.
> 
> And also, there will not be a update next week. I'm sorry but I have some personal issues to tie up so Hermit & Hunter will resume in 2021. Have a great holiday and I'll see you next year!


	13. The Resolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I took a longer break than I thought I needed to but here's the chapter!

“GEORGE!” Dream’s despairing cry ripped through the clearing and Technoblade could only watch helplessly as his friend thrashed around on the ground, unable to move with the wall of swords holding him back. His fingers itched for his own sword at his belt and unconsciously, his hand started inching toward the hilt. The trident wielding guard caught his movement and swung the heavy spear to be level with his throat. 

“Don’t move,” the man sneered. “Try anything and your head will be rolling at my feet before you can draw your sword.” 

Techno gritted his teeth and lowered his hand. Dream’s cries had faded away into silence and he could see the man’s prone figure on the ground. Besides him, Sapnap and Bad were just as equally helpless, unable to move or fight back. On their faces were equal expressions of distress, the eerie blue flickering light of the fire climbing up the wood of the house dancing over their faces. 

“Oh, did he bite the dust already?” Schlatt prodded Dream’s inanimate body with his boot to no response. Techno watched as the horned man bent down and placed a finger at Dream’s throat. “Nope, he’s still breathing but just barely.” 

“What would you like us to do with these three, your majesty?”, a soldier asked. “Do you want us to bring them back?” 

“No,” Schlatt responded, standing back up. “It’s too much trouble and I know they’ll find some way to slip away. Better to kill them now while they’re still helpless.” He brushed his hands off casually, giving an indifferent glance over at Techno. “That reminds me, they seem to be missing a few people. Were they killed?” 

“No, your majesty,” the soldier replied, bowing his head. “I’m not sure where the other three are but we didn’t kill them.” 

Schlatt sighed, his red eyes glittering dangerously. “This day keeps getting better and better,” he murmured. “I’m going to make sure their deaths are extra painful for making me do all the extra work of hunting them down.”

A red tide of hatred sparked in Techno and he snarled, walking forward. “Don’t you dare touch my brothers, you spineless coward. I’ll rip your filthy head off your body if you so much as get within a foot near them.” 

“Blab, blab,” Schlatt said, disdainfully. “Empty threats and words won’t do a single thing to me.” He waved a hand carelessly. “Kill them, would you?”

“With pleasure.” The trident wielder thrust his weapon forward, slowly, mockingly toward Techno and something in him snapped. With a deft hand, he caught the spear coming toward him and with an infusion of adrenaline and anger, ripped the weapon out of its wielder’s hands, yanking the soldier forward in the process. Before the man could give more than a surprised grunt, Techno grabbed his head with both hands and twisted it violently with an echoing snap. 

The soldier dropped to the ground with a thud, his limbs unnaturally splayed across the ground and head pointed at a grotesque angle, an expression of surprise permanently etched into his face. For a moment, there was only the sound of the rain and the crackling of the fire. His hands were still curled at his side, the trident still in his grasp and he was breathing heavily from the pounding blood in his veins. The remaining soldiers wore expressions of fear and shock, their bodies moving back from him. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Schlatt looked at him with a new look of interest. If he was unnerved from the sudden death of one of his guards, he didn’t show it. “That was unexpected.” His eyes gleamed with curiosity. “You looked like you could be of some use. How would you like to join me? I can spare the lives of your brothers if you do.”

“Fat chance.” Techno spun the trident in his hands until the tip was pointed directly at the man in front of him. “I’ve always taught my brothers to never live under someone’s power. What kind of older sibling would I be if I go back on my own teachings? If we have to die, at least we’ll die on our own feet and account.” 

“That’s right!” A familiar voice shouted from the treetops and against his will, Techno’s eyes flickered up to see Tommy and Tubbo perched on a branch above. “You’ll be a pretty shitty brother if you turned out to just be a gigantic pussy!”

The sound of barking and racing feet joined and Wilbur burst out of the treeline with the dog they had found earlier. “Jesus fucking christ,” the tall lanky man grumbled, as he snagged the huge canine by the collar. “Stop running, you stupid animal.” 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Techno hissed, his eyes back at the enemies in front of him. "I told you to stay back and make sure the dog doesn't run off!"

"This thing almost dislocated my shoulder when he ran off," Wilbur replied, his hand still on the whimpering dog's collar. "Besides, it looked like you needed some help anyway. We're brothers, Techno. No matter what, you'll be there for us. That's what you promised me and Tommy. So now, it's our turn to protect you."

Tommy jumped down from his branch, Tubbo following him. "We'll win this, Techno," Tommy said, coming up to stand next to him. "We'll win this and go home together." He drew his sword and Techno was vividly reminded of the joy Tommy had on his face when he had first given the sword to the boy. "That's our promise to you." 

"How very touching," Schlatt interrupted in a drawling voice. "Really brings a tear to my eyes." His hand caressed the sword at his side. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're all going to die here." 

"Bring it," Techno snapped. His grip on the trident tightened and now he was determined to not only fight to win but to make his brothers' promise a reality. He would protect them all, even if his heart stopped and his body crumbled.

"Let's fuck shit up, boys!" Tommy yelled and together, they charged the line of soldiers facing them down. 

\--------

"What do you mean, we don't have much time left?" George demanded. More blue sparks littered the air even as he spoke. "What is even happening right now?" 

_Right now, in the physical world, you're dying just as I_ am, the spirit replied. _You fell unconscious in battle and now you're currently being burned to death in your own house. Meanwhile, my physical manifestation is slowly being eaten away._

"What?!" George looked down at his unblemished body, trying to find any trace of damage. "I need to go back then! Hurry up and send me back!" 

_There's no point, George,_ the spirit said sadly. A flash of light made George stumble back in confusion, blinking the spots out of his vision. There was no longer a giant tree in front of him. Instead, there was a slightly transparent, glowing man floating in the air. His face was both unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. "If I send you back now, you'll only spend your last minutes in agony, unable to move." 

"Since when did you have a human form?" George asked. 

"Oh, since forever," the spirit responded with a shrug. "I thought I'll save it for a big dramatic moment like this when we're both about to die." He gave a small smile, though it didn't hide the pain that he was feeling. 

"For someone who's about to die, you don't seem very bothered," George replied. Contrary to whatever situation he was currently in the physical world, he felt absolutely fine.

"I've lived a long life." The spirit sat down on the ground, patting the seat beside him. George got the message and sat down as well. "For eons, I've existed both in your world and this one. So long I've almost forgotten how the passage of time felt. The centuries you've lived for is but a fraction of the time I've experienced." 

"You've been alone for that long?" George couldn't imagine having to live a life of solitude for so long that he would forget what time felt like. 

"Not in the beginning." The spirit tilted his head up to the impenetrable dark ceiling above them. "When I first was brought into consciousness in this Void, there were hundreds of other spirits here with me. We lived in this space for, I don't know...hundreds of years I would suppose before we got bored. That was when we realized we had the power to build other worlds." 

"You mean, there are other worlds besides this one?" 

The spirit shook his head. "Not anymore. You see, we were able to influence the worlds we've created, as I do with the Forest. We could do what we wanted with the land, the air, the sea. Nothing was out of our control. We could even introduce lifeforms into our world. But, inevitably, our creations would collapse in the end."

A single ghostly hand was raised and the spirit looked at it sadly. "Our power was too much for our creations to handle. Our very presence would drain the worlds of their vitality and everything would be reduced to dust. Animals, plants, even humans would all die." The spirit's radiance dimmed slightly, as he lowered his head. "At first, that never bothered us. Why should we care when our playthings broke when we could create an infinite amount of them? We built more and more worlds, an extravagant amount, to use and discard. This went on for an indescribable amount of time. But somewhere along the line, we began to feel the seeds of guilt form in us. We could see the lives that you humans lead, though we never directly interacted. Sadness, war, division, but also happiness, love, and freedom. We created you to never die unless killed and we watched as you struggle in our dying worlds. We tried to minimize your suffering, to prolong the lives of the worlds we created by not directing manipulating it. But, no matter what we tried, it never could save. So one by one, we decide to move on." 

There was a silence as George digested that statement. "They voluntarily died?" 

"I don't know," the spirit replied. "I don't know what is beyond or where they went. It's as much a mystery to me as it is to you what comes when we fade away. But slowly, my companions that have stayed with me since the dawn of time left. We wanted to create a world that would never crumble. Slowly, more and more spirits left. Our worlds lasted longer as the burden of our influence lessened. In the end, there was only me." 

"I was scared," the spirit said. More blue sparks floated from him, adorning the soft yellow light. "So scared of traversing into the unknown, to go where none had ever come back from. I lived alone in this world, trying to keep everything stabilized as the world was drained. As expected, nothing worked and I continued to cling onto this life." He turned to George with a small smile, the blue sparks illuminating his face grimly. "But now, it seems that choice has been taken away from me."

\--------

"You're done for, Schlatt." Techno leveled the trident in his hand to Schlatt's chest. Around the clearing, the bodies of the remainder of the guards were scattered throughout the ground. His hands and clothes were stained with red as his companions, both their's and the soldiers but at least they were still breathing. "It's over. Your guards are gone and no one will be here to save you."

"You're right." The man drew his sword, the blade rasping as it scraped against its sheath. Techno had a moment to glimpse the shimmering purple blade before it was engulfed in flames. "It is over. But not for me."

The hair on Techno's neck raised in alarm and he quickly jumped back. "Get back!" he yelled, as Schlatt swept the air with his sword. 

A pillar of fire erupted, blinding and hot as it seared the air. Black smoke filled the air and through the crackling of the fire, Schlatt's laughter rang out. "You think what paultry physical strength you wield is power?" He raised the sword again with a vicious snarl. "This is power!" 

Techno rolled to the side as the sword was brought down, scorching a line over the grass where he was just standing. "Techno, move!" Tubbo yelled. The boy drew back a crossbow he had taken and shot a sparkling firework toward the blazing conflagration. 

Schlatt dodged the projectile and with a sweep of his sword, sent a fan of flames toward the boy. Techno grabbed Tubbo and pulled him to the side, out of the direct path of the fire. "You think you've dodged it?!" Schlatt screamed. He looked insane, his silhouette outlined by the fire and his red eyes burning madly. Techno scrambled to his feet, dragging Tubbo as he ran desperately. More fire crashed down on the grass near them, filling the air with more red and orange sparks. "My sword's enchanted with Fire Aspect and Sweeping Edge! How long do you think you can keep this up?!" 

There was the dull smack of another crossbow and through the sting in his eyes, Techno could see Wilbur and Bad wielding salvaged crossbows. The arrows that were fired simply seemed to melt in the heat though. With a snarl, Schlatt swiped the air again and another wave of billowing flames erupted. "You're so annoying! I'll crush you all!" 

"Techno, let me go!" Tubbo fought his way out of his grip and ran toward Schlatt, who had his back turned. 

"Wait, Tubbo!" he yelled.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Schlatt turned to the boy running toward him with a contemptuous sneer and flicked his sword through the air. Fire exploded through the air, flinging Tubbo back from the force of the blast, running long lashes over his body. He hit the ground with a thud, his sword flying out of his hand. 

“TUBBO!” Tommy’s scream echoed across the field and he quickly looked over, terror on his face. As if sensing his vulnerability, Schlatt raised his sword again, his eyes fixed on him. 

Without thinking, Techno charged forward, all of his willpower bent on reaching the man before he could strike down his brother. Even as he ran, he knew the distance was too great. He would never make it in time. 

The trident in his hand hummed and he looked down at it. The shimmering weapon flared with light and as he watched, the radiance of the weapon that had been blue before shifted to white. Instinctively, he threw back the trident and he threw it with all his strength. 

The heavy spear sailed through the air, past all the flames and smoke, a bright rod of light before it struck Schlatt in the side. Something sparked in the air and the hair at his nape stood on end as a brilliant white bolt of lightning flashed from the pouring sky into the trident. 

An explosion tore through the ground, a blinding white explosion that forced Techno to shield his eyes. When he could finally open his eyes, where Schlatt once stood, shielded by his flames, there was only a crater. In the center of it, stuck in the ground was the trident, still radiating light. There was a partially melted sword on the ground near it and there was no trace of Schlatt, nothing to show that the tyrant had ever stood there. 

“Holy shit,” Wilbur whispered in awe. He was sitting on the ground, the crossbow no longer in his hands. “What the hell was that?”

On the ground, Tubbo groaned and Techno snapped back to himself. “We’ll worry about it later!” he said, quickly running over to the injured boy. “We need to treat Dream and Tubbo right now! Tommy, give me some of the healing pots in your bag.” 

There was the sound of creaking wood and he looked up just in time to see the burning house crumble into itself. Powerlessly, he and his friends could only watch as the roof of the building collapsed with a final shower of sparks, burying everything that had been inside underneath a blazing mass of wood and stone. 

\--------

A searing pain lanced through George’s chest and he gasped, clutching his chest. It felt like there was a huge suffocating mass on him and he struggled to draw in a breath. After a couple of minutes, the sensation weakened to an ache in his chest, leaving him sweating and panting in the aftermath. 

“George, George.” The voice of the spirit reached his ears and he realized he was on his back, staring up at the infinite darkness above him. The spirit was looking at him with concern, a hand raised over him. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” he replied truthfully, propping himself onto his elbows. “What was that?”

“I think we’re out of time now.” The spirit sat back. “Your physical body has died. It’s only a matter of time before you fade away here too.” 

“I died?” He looked down at his hand and he wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating but his body seemed to be just the slightest bit transparent. 

“Yes,” the spirit said sadly. “When your material body is destroyed, your spirit form also fades away eventually. Neither can exist without the other.” 

“Is there anything I can do?” George’s voice was calm, surprising himself with his steadiness. He clenched his hands and watched his knuckles whiten. The sensation felt slightly dulled. 

“No.” The spirit looked down into his lap, head lowered. “There is nothing you can do.” 

“Oh,” George said in a small voice. He looked up again into the bottomless ceiling and he remembered the time he had first shown this place to Dream. The blonde had been so wary and scared, the same as when George first accidentally slipped into this world. But in the end, Dream had looked at him with those burning yellow eyes and promised to shoulder his burden. And in that instant, George wanted nothing more than to see those eyes again, no matter how much he had been hurt by them. “Oh.” 

“But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing I can do.” George turned to the spirit. The spirit’s gaze was no longer sad or mournful, but blazing with determination instead. “This may be the end for me, but not for you.”

\--------

Dream’s eyes snapped open abruptly. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. He could feel the sensation of slow raindrops splattering his face and hard-packed dirt underneath him. A familiar face floated into his vision. 

“Dream! You’re awake!” Sapnap’s face split into a relieved grin, though there was a hint of something else in it. 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “What happened?” 

“You passed out,” the black-haired man replied. His eyes looked everywhere but his own. “But everything’s okay now. We won.” 

“Is everyone okay?” His heart skipped a couple of beats as another face popped into his head. “Is George okay?” 

Sapnap's face fell at those words. "Tubbo's injured pretty badly but everyone else if fine. And George, he's..." Sapnap lowered his head, his voice trailing off into silence and without hesitation, Dream shot up from the ground. The ground tilted haphazardly and a violent wave of nausea almost made him dry-heave right then and there. He forced it down and when his vision steadied, his stomach dropped at what he saw in front of him. 

Where George’s house once stood, there was only the charred burning remains of wood and melted stone. There wasn’t a single wall standing and blue fires still raged among the mass. His legs moved unconsciously forward toward the ruins, as near the intense heat as he could. "No," he whispered. "George!" Without thinking, he started running toward the remains, heedless of the fire that would certainly burn him. 

"Dream, stop!" Sapnap grabbed his shoulder, preventing him from moving any closer. "Your wounds haven't fully closed yet. If you move too much, you'll die!" 

"You think I care?!" He fought to get out of his friend's grip but the amount of blood he had lost had weakened him. "I need to save him!" 

"He's dead, Dream!" The black-haired man's grip tightened. "There's nothing you can do!" 

"Shut up!" he roared. "He can't be. GEORGE!" He could feel tears streaming down his face, hot and salty. The heat burned his face but all he could think about was finding George. A second wave of dizziness washed over him and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground. The world was spinning around and his limbs wouldn't cooperate with him anymore. "No, move. Damn it, move!" His tears streamed more thickly and even struggling as hard he could, he could only watch the flickering flames consumed more of the ruins. "Please..." 

"I'm sorry." Sapnap's voice was heavy with shame and grief. He clung onto Dream, his head bowed. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't protect what was important to you."

Unable to bear it anymore, Dream buried his face into Sapnap's shirt and let his tears run freely. He didn't want to see the burning remains of the house anymore. He didn't want to see the place where he had lost everything. Maybe, later on, one day, he would be able to pick himself up and move on. Maybe, one day, he could come to terms with his loss. He knew it was what George would've wanted for him. But right now, he didn't think that day could ever come without the brunette by his side.

\--------

"Do you remember the day you first came into this Forest?" the spirit asked, folding his hand into his lap. 

"Kinda," George replied. "I had to leave my village and somewhere along the way, I ended up here in the Forest. I passed out in that clearing and met you for the first time." 

"Do you remember anything before that?" 

George thought back to the time before he had begun calling the Forest his home. He remembered that he had lived in a village with other people before but the specific memories and events seemed to slip through his grasp like water. "I can't remember," he said, holding his head and trying to concentrate. "It's so weird. The memories are there but I can't focus on them." 

"When we first talked, you asked me to take your memories from you," the spirit explained. "You were running because your village was destroyed by pillagers and you found your way here. You were injured, starving, and sick of all the events you've experienced." He paused before continuing. "It's a common problem for those who had lived a long time." 

"You took my memories?" George's head was starting to hurt from all this new information and the throbbing in his chest didn't help. "Is that why I can't remember anything from back then?" 

"Yes." The spirit pointed at his head. "What is in your mind right now is simply the echoes that were formed in their place. But I can give them back to you." 

George turned away. "If I wanted them to be taken away from me in the first place, why would I want them back now?" 

"You're strong, George." The spirit placed a transparent hand on his shoulder. "One of the strongest there is. But your heart is weak. The violence and suffering in this world don't go away if you try to hide from it. You can't become strong by ignoring your weaknesses." His grip tightened and George looked up into the glowing eyes. "I was lonely, scared, and weak just as you once were. You helped me see past my own fear and selfishness. You've kept my form going for centuries now, nurturing the Forest that I was draining the life out of. And in the process, I've made a mistake in allowing you to ground yourself here to fulfill a futile and impossible task." A cascade of blue sparks littered the air and the spirit withdrew his hand. "The soul fire is becoming more widespread. In another couple of minutes, it'll consume me completely. I don't want to leave you but I know I'll leave you in good hands." 

"Whose?" George asked. There would be no one left if he lost the spirit. He would be alone once again. "There's no one I can turn to if you leave." 

The spirit smiled, the blue embers illuminating his face. "Are you sure about that? You know, you've always made assumptions too quickly." He tilted his face up to the ceiling as the flurry of cinders intensified. "You won't be alone, George. I promise." 

"I still don't want you to leave," George said, desperately. He tried to grab the spirit by his arms, only to have his hands pass through his body. "Please don't leave. You're my oldest friend!" 

"And I'll cherish the time we spent together, wherever I'm going onto. But I won't let myself become your prison." He placed a finger on George's chest, over the talisman he always wore. "This is a Totem of Undying George. I gave this to you when you first came in here to protect you, though it's rusted with age now and can't activate unless I help it. This will be my final gift to you, along with your memories." His body started to decay, blue cracks tracing their way up his transparent body. "Tell me, who are you?" 

George could feel tears silently tracing their way down his face. "I'm George, the Hermit of this Forest," he choked out. 

The spirit's smile widened. "No, it's not. That's not who you are. It's time for you to reclaim your old name." The blackened talisman began glowing, the rust on the surface breaking apart, revealing the gold underneath. At the same time, the spirit's body crumbled to nothing more than just his head. The totem's radiance grew until George had to squint against the harsh light. "This is goodbye, George Davidson." 

He saw one last trace of the spirit's wide smile before everything faded to white. 

\--------

Dream didn’t know how long he stayed curled up on the ground, clinging onto Sapnap as his tears flowed down his face. The downpour of rain gradually faded to scattered drops before they disappeared entirely. He could hear the sound of Tommy’s desperate efforts to wake up Tubbo and above everything else, the crackling of the otherworldly fire as they greedily consumed everything. 

All of a sudden, a breeze blew through the air, as if the Forest was giving a sigh and the sizzling and sputtering of burning wood disappeared, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. “What the-?” Sapnap’s arms came off of him and his surprised voice echoed across the silent clearing. “Where did all the fire go? It’s all gone!” 

Dream lifted his heavy head and indeed, there was no longer any trace of the cobalt blaze that had run rampant just a minute ago beside the charred wood of the trees and the lingering smoke that was quickly dissipating. The clean fresh wind filled the clearing, replacing the suffocating smoke that smothered the air. Instinctively, he took in a breath, his lungs relishing the purity of the oxygen. 

“Wha-!” Dream’s head quickly whipped over at Tommy’s surprised cry. A faint glow illuminated the shock on his face from Tubbo’s still body on the grass and as Dream watched, the patchwork of angry red burns and blackened skin peeled away. Underneath, pale, pink skin replaced them and the boy’s eyes fluttered open. “Tubbo?”

“Tommy?” Tubbo pushed himself onto his elbows and looked around at the shocked faces around him. “What happen-? Woah!” Tommy tackled the boy, bringing both of them to the ground as the blonde simultaneously screamed and hugged his friend. 

“Why would you do that?!” he yelled, squeezing Tubbo tighter. “What the actual fucking hell were you thinking?! You could’ve died, you absolute stupid son of a bitch!” 

Dream felt a hand roughly grab his arm and he looked up in alarm. “Dream,” Sapnap breathed, his eyes wide as he looked at something behind Dream. “Look!” 

He whirled around to find a bright glow emanating from the wreckage of George’s house. Before anyone could stop him, he scrambled to his feet and dashed toward the glow, his heart in his throat. As he clumsily made his way over to the pile of stone and charred wood, a chunk of rock rattled before it was pushed upwards from something underneath it. Dream quickened his pace as more and more rubble was pushed aside. His heart was pumping blood dangerously fast but he didn’t care. All he knew was that he had to get there as soon as possible. 

More rubble was pushed aside and the radiance from the wreckage exploded violently, washing everything over with a warm yellow. Shielding his eyes, Dream forged forward, his legs moving in an unstoppable march. Eventually, he reached the edge of the broken house and he climbed over the charred wood. 

All of a sudden, the light flashed and died down to a faint glimmer, particles of it clinging to the air like stars. Dream's breath caught in his chest as he saw the source of the light, sitting on the wooden floor, his head looking around in confusion. His legs took off immediately and he threw himself into George, sobbing and clinging onto the brunette tightly.

"Dream?" George whispered. His voice was confused and his arms were raised hesitantly in the air. "You didn't leave?" 

"'Course, I didn't." His breath was coming in haphazard bursts and he probably looked like a mess but he didn't care. George was alive. Alive and well, without a single scratch on him. His heartbeat was drumming under Dream's fingers, a reassuring pulse like it had never stopped. "I promised to stay with you, remember?" 

George's hands gripped his jacket tightly and his face fell onto his shoulder. "I thought you left," he whispered so quietly that Dream almost didn't hear him. His body was trembling like a leaf caught in the wind, fragile and frail. "I thought you left me behind."

"Never," Dream replied in a broken voice as the light around them faded away gently. "I'm never leaving you. No matter where you go, where either of us are, I'll always come back to your side."

"I'll never let you be alone again." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now we're nearing the conclusion of this book! As always, leave a comment and kudos if you like!


	14. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter! School's been a massive pain in the ass and I could not find the time to finish this on time. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The sun was hanging in the sun, shimmering in the blue sky. The previous rain-swollen clouds were now gone, replaced by puffy white masses drifting across the brilliant blue sky. It was as if the devastating battle had never occurred as if the fire from another world had never seared through the forest just hours ago. Far below the clouds, on the floor of the forest, two familiar heads of brown and blonde hair peeked out between the gaps of the dense canopy of leaves. 

"We're here," George said, stopping at the edge of the clearing. In front of them were the corpses of the dead soldiers who had fallen by his sword. Dried blood caked the ground, washing the ground a muddy red color. Flies were buzzing around the bodies and the smell of festering flesh caused bile to come up his throat. Some of the bodies were facing the sky, showing the permanent expression of surprise or terror. He could remember the feel of his blade scraping harshly against bone, the repulsively warm blood against his skin and he shivered slightly. 

"Hey." Dream's hand slipped over his. "It's okay. It's over now." 

"I know," George replied, looking away from the faces of those he's slain. "It's just..." 

"You don't need to explain it to me if you don't want to," Dream said. "Let's get this over with and go, okay?" 

"Yeah, sure." Silently, the two of them got to work with the shovels they had brought. Together, they scooped the dirt up and dumped it to the side to create graves for the fallen soldiers. It felt wrong to simply leave the corpses rotting on the forest floor and it was the least they could do after taking their lives, giving them a proper burial. It was hard work, though. The soil was dry and hard-packed from being baked in the sun, forcing them to hammer on the surface before they broke through the crust. Eventually, after an hour of digging and sweating, they were able to get four sizable grave plots. Now, all they had to do was place the actual bodies inside, something George was dreading. As if he could sense George's uneasiness, Dream placed a hand on his shoulder

"Take a break," Dream told him, giving him a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder "I can take it from here." George opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Dream. "Seriously, it's fine. Go sit down. You don't need to do this." 

After a moment of hesitation, George nodded reluctantly and placed down his shovel. "Thanks." The thought of having to touch the corpses made him shudder and he was thankful that Dream was willing to take over this part. He walked to the edge of the clearing and sat down. Absently, he touched the bark of the tree he was sitting against, feeling the absence that had taken the place of the spirit. 

It had been several hours since he had been miraculously brought back to life by the spirit and ever since then, he could no longer feel the presence of the spirit. Before, every rustling of the treetops felt like the breath of the Forest, every creaking of the branches an indication of another person he couldn't see but could feel. But now, he felt nothing. There was no longer the spark of life and consciousness in the woods. The Forest had simply become the forest, another regular groove of trees. 

And as such, he was freed now. His duties as the Hermit of the Forest was over now. The daily tasks he must complete to sustain the vitality of the Forest wouldn't need to be done. No otherworldly force was inhabiting the forest now, allowing nature to run its own course and heal over the damage left behind by the fire. He could go anywhere now. It was what the spirit would've wanted. Leave the confines of this spruce prison and explore the world. Dream would follow him anywhere he would decide to go. But he wasn't sure if his heart was ready to leave the place he called home for decades.

"All done." George jumped at the sound of Dream's voice, as the blonde flopped down next to him on the carpet of grass. The shovel was tossed haphazardly on the ground near the now flat mounds of dirt. "Dear god, that dirt was heavy." 

"Sorry," George replied sheepishly. "I should've helped." 

Dream waved away his apology. "Don't sweat it." He bumped his shoulder against George gently. "It looked like you were thinking about something pretty hard, anyway."

"I guess." George crossed his arms over his knees and sighed softly. Dream moved closer to lean against him and George obliged, shifting so that he was resting his head on the blonde's shoulder. For a moment, the two of them sat like that, taking in their newfound ability to be able to be with each other like this, without the fear of abandonment or doubt of each other. 

"I don't know what to do, Dream," George blurted out suddenly. He wrapped his arms around his knees tighter as his doubts tumbled out of him. "The spirit's gone. I don't need to stay here anymore. I could go anywhere I want now. But… I don’t know if I want to. And I have my old memories again now and I remember so much.” 

“George, look at me.” George turned his head to find Dream’s eyes looking into his own. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, George. You don’t owe anyone that. If you don’t want to leave, then don’t." Dream lightly knocked his forehead against his. "Whatever you decide to do, I’ll always be by your side, whether you’re fighting an enemy or your own past." 

Impulsively, George leaned in and pressed his lips over Dream's, who gave a small surprised grunt. "Thank you," he whispered, feeling the blonde's breath mingling with his. "I don't tell you that enough. Thank you for being here with me."

"I made you a promise," Dream replied, a hand coming up to cup his face gently. "And I don't intend to break it. Like I said, whatever happens, I'll be by your side as long as you allow it." 

George closed his eyes and he leaned into the warm hand on his face, such a vulnerable action that he would have never done in the past. Everything about Dream seemed to break him down and expose a hidden side he never knew he had. "Forever," he whispered, his selfish wish falling from his lips. "I want you forever." 

"Then you'll have me forever." Dream leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over George's face before they met in a kiss. "It'll be me and you 'till the end of the world." 

\--------

The sun had set long ago, and the woods surrounding the clearing where his old house once stood were alive with the sounds of monsters. Now that the spirit of the Forest was gone, the protective barrier that had prevented hostile mobs from entering or spawning was gone, allowing them to once again roam the forest floor when the sun was gone. Thankfully, one of Dream's friend, Bad, George remembers, had the foresight to use torches to light up the area for a couple of dozen yards around them so that they were relatively safe. Even still, they had set up a watch, just to be on the safe side.

Currently, it was George's turn. Periodically, he would toss more wood into the campfire to keep it going while he kept alert for any signs of trouble. So far, a couple of zombies had ventured too close and he had to deal with them. Behind him, Dream and his friends were sleeping soundly in the small tents that had been erected. 

The telltale rattling of bones made him whip his head up. There was a pair of skeletons at the tree line drawing back their roughly carved bows with a quiet creak. Quickly, George lifted the shield on the ground by his side up to cover him. Two arrows thumped into the thick wood and he quickly tossed it aside, leaping forward as the skeletons struggled to fit another crude arrow onto their worn bowstrings. 

With a crash, he slammed into one of the animated skeletal archers, knocking it to the ground. He rammed his sword through the skeleton's skull before it could recover, causing it to lay still on the ground, whatever magic animating it broken now. The second skeleton fired off another shot at him, poorly aimed in its haste. With a sweep of his sword, George knocked the projectile away and sliced through the ribcage of the monster.

The battle had lasted barely a minute but it had moved him away from the safety of the torchlight. Individually, skeletons weren't much trouble but a group of them was trouble. If other mobs like zombies and spiders showed up as well, even an experienced fighter like him would have a hard time dealing with them. He turned to go back to the campsite when a familiar hissing sound reached his ears. 

George whipped around to find the source of the sound right behind him. A creeper had snuck up on him, barely a foot away, and as he watched in horror, the creature began to expand, a second away from blowing the ground to smithereens along with him. 

The thrum of a bowstring vibrated through the air and an arrow sprouted in the thick body of the creeper, yanking it to the side. The sound of its internal ignition was abruptly cut off. Quickly, George dove to the side, in case the creeper was still alive and primed for denotation. No explosion came forth though, and it seemed whoever shot the arrow had killed the monster instantly. 

“That was close.” George looked up from his perch on the ground to see one of Dream’s friends, the darker-skinned one with a white bandana tied around his head, standing behind him with his bow drawn and another arrow already fitted to the string. “If I’ve been a couple of seconds later, we would’ve been scraping your remains off the ground.” 

“Thanks,” George replied in a tight voice. His heat was still racing from the encounter and he tried to calm down the hammering in his throat. 

“Don’t worry about it.” The man extended his hand and pulled George to his feet when he grasped it. “You’re okay? Any injuries?” 

“I’m fine.” The two of them walked back to the campsite and George was relieved to see that everyone else was still sleeping peacefully in their tents. Fortunately, no one else had witnessed his rather embarrassing near-death experience. 

Silently, George sat down again, placing his sword carefully to the side as the man, Sapnap, he recalled, stoked the fire, making it burn more brightly than before. 

“Creepers are pretty stealthy, and their green bodies make them hard to see in a forest,” Sapnap said, after a moment of awkward silence. “Drop your guard at night, especially in a forest like this and the next thing you know, you’re done for.” 

“Yeah,” George agreed. “I haven’t fought them in so long I forgot that.” He looked into the depths of the fire, flickering and spluttering in the night air. “You can go back to sleep, you know. I still have a couple of hours left on my watch.” 

Sapnap shook his head. “I’m okay. I’ve never slept easily in forests. Too much stuff moving around for me to relax.” He looked over at George with his dark eyes. “Besides, this is the first time we can talk to each other one-on-one.” 

George felt a jolt of apprehension in his stomach and he fidgeted nervously under the other man’s gaze. “Sure.” 

“He really loves you, you know?” Sapnap looked over at the tent where George knew Dream was sleeping in. “When Schlatt went after you, he immediately took off after him. I’ve never seen Dream like this in all the years I’ve known him.” He looked back at George. “What are you two planning to do now?” 

George was quiet for a second. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Part of me wants to keep staying here but part of me wants to leave this place. I really don’t know what to do.” 

“Come to the city,” Sapnap replied instantly. George looked up in surprise at the other brunette. “We’re all leaving tomorrow except Dream, anyway but you two could come with us. Now that Schlatt’s gone and his elite soldiers dead, we can free everyone from the city walls. After we’ve done that, we can go anywhere we want. And you can come with us.” When George didn’t reply, he quickly added. “You don’t need to decide right now. Go think about it. I’ll take over your watch.” 

Back in the tent he was sharing with Dream, George stared up at the dark canvas, thinking. He wanted to do as the spirit had told him and go on into the world he had been locked away from for years. He really did. But his memories from the past made him afraid to do so. He could now remember what had occurred to drive him into the Forest. Flashes of images that he now knew the meaning of race through his mind. A strip of sand leading to a vast expanse of water, the fire eating through the wood, sounds of terrified screams and gleeful laughing, running away from his village as it fell around him spurred on by the adrenaline in him for days before he finally collapsed onto a soft bed of grass. If he left now, the same thing could happen again and he wasn’t sure if he could stand that. 

But he wanted to be stronger. Strong enough to crush the weakness in his heart. He wanted to be strong enough to be able to face anything with confidence like Dream always did. George turned to the side to look at Dream’s face next to his. Unconsciously, he wound his fingers into the blonde’s and squeezed gently. _Yes,_ he told himself. He would face down his past and move on with his life. He would not run from it. And he wouldn’t have to do it alone. 

_Three Months Later_

“I see it, Tommy!” Tubbo excited cries rang out from the front of the carriage. “I can see the ocean!” 

It had been three months since the day George had left the forest. Together with everyone, he had made the journey back to the city to sort everything out, once and for all. 

But it turned out, everything was already resolved by the time they got back. The gates were thrown wide open and everyone was outside in the wide plains, celebrating. After a few exciting jumbled summaries of what had happened, the group managed to piece everything together. 

Apparently, the golems that had kept the city inhabitants imprisoned had gone still a couple of days, the same day that Techno had killed Schlatt. With their creator dead, the golems had lost their controls and couldn’t do anything. As a result, the few Elites that were left were either dead or gone. Everyone was free to go wherever they wanted to now. 

For a few months, George had been living in the city, getting to know his companions better and watching as more and more people left the walls into the unknown. In every face, there was apprehension at what they would find but also hope. And now, George, Dream, Sapnap, Bad, Techno, Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo were among those people. 

They had set off a week ago toward a place George knew from the memories he had recovered. It was the first step he would take in his new life and say he was nervous was an understatement. 

The group stopped the carriage and gathered their supplies before walking the remainder of the way to their destination. Along the way, George saw what he knew would be there. 

The broken remains of his village remained even after all the years since he’d last been here. Several houses were still partially intact while most of them were scattered around the ground in heaps of charred wood and broken stone. In a daze, George walked over to one of the standing walls and placed a hand on the cool stone. Behind him, he could hear the soft muttering of his friends before he felt a hand on his back, warm and comforting. 

“You guys go ahead to the beach,” he heard Dream say. “We’ll be there soon.” 

Muttered assents sounded out and soon, only the two of them were left in the ruins. None of them said anything as George picked their way slowly through the wreckage, going down an invisible path. Finally, the two of them ended up at the base of a nearby tree, looking over everything as the sky slowly darkened. 

A tear traced its way down George’s face and if there was anyone but Dream here, he would’ve quickly wiped it away and turned so they wouldn’t be able to see it. But now, he let them fall freely as Dream silently wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. 

“This place must’ve been a great place to live,” Dream said quietly. “I can imagine so many good memories being made here and how painful it must’ve been to see it like this.” 

“Yeah,” George choked out through his sobs. 

“But we can always create more memories. I won’t let something that happened in the past stop you from being happy in the future.” Dream kissed his forehead and pulled him into a tight embrace. “Okay?”

George nodded against the fabric of Dream’s hoodie in reply. They sat there until his sobs quieted and together they moved on from the remains to the rest of their friends. 

The beach was close by and George could see their friends in the ocean, and a fire blazing nearby, their supplies dumped haphazardly in the sand. “Wanna go join them?” Dream asked him. 

“Sure,” he replied. He leaned in and kissed Dream. “And you’re right, we can always create new memories. Especially if you’re here beside me.” 

“Believe it.” And there under the twilight sky and twinkling stars, George did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that ends this fanfic! It's been one hell of a few months writing this and it was pretty scuffed at times but I'm glad so many of you guys liked it. Thank you guys so much for the support!
> 
> P.S. If you want more of my work, check out my Hunger Games/MCYT fanfic here!  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27263677/chapters/66606565


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